Dark Archangel
by Athena1999
Summary: *COMPLETE* AU. A spell from Azulongmon gone wrong turns Myotismon into AngeMyotismon! Will this dark archangel find a place in the world as he struggles between being good and evil and even earn a place in the heart of another angel? R&R and Enjoy!
1. The Spell

*~***Dark Archangel***~*

by AthEnA1999

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.  I wish I did.

Intro: OK, this is a combination of things.  They are Forever Virus, Gate of Destiny, and some random events from various TV shows that gave me more ideas.  I remember one of the shows is X-Men: Evolution, which is one of my absolute favorite shows in the world.  And though most of this will be written in… like… January (hopefully it won't stretch into summer), this will still be sort of a holiday fic as well.  Finally, I would like to dedicate this story to my little circle of friends here on fanfiction and all Myo fans out there!  (I guess Wiz fans can be included too!)  Oh, BTW, though the first chapter mainly centers around Wizardmon… **AU FIC ABOUT MYOTISMON!!!!!!!  **It takes place the winter after Season 01, shortly before Christmas, in both the digital world and the real world.  Oh, and it has a surprise villain!  Hope you like it, despite its chapter length!  Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

The Spell

  I _have heard the saying that there is a bit of good in everyone,_ thought Wizardmon.  He blinked his jade-green eyes and brushed his straw-colored hair out of his ash-colored face.  _They have made one exception.  I know that he is pure evil, with not a grain of righteousness within, even filling those who come near him with hatred.  They think he is an angel at first sight, what with his appearance and such, but when they finally get to know the digimon which he truly is, they come to realize that such an evil being should not belong in this world.  Cast him into the fires of hell, pure damnation and torment is what he must endure for all he has done.  No digital god can change his ways at all._

  The digimon whom the young wizard was thinking of did have an angelic appearance, or so it seemed.  From far away an unsuspecting digimon or the female humans who were attracted to him in a way that no asexual being would ever experience or know of.  They saw the moonlight shimmering on his locks of blonde hair that appeared to have been spun from gold threads, with the three stray strands that hung in his face that made him appear even more handsome than he did.  They looked closer, and saw two piercing blue eyes that could send shivers down the bravest man's spine with a single glance.  His pallid skin tinted with blue made him seem like he was made from the very sky in the heavens that sent him to Earth or Digiworld.  With an even closer glance, the woman could see how handsome this mysterious angelic stranger was, with his perfectly-chiseled face without a single blemish.  He could have seemed even more perfect without the crimson mask that covered his eyes and the disturbing secret of the past that ran between them in the form of a scar.  The woman's eyes met his, and suddenly, with a slight shiver, she felt herself mesmerized by everything he did.

  H_e is no angel._

  In a trance, this unsuspecting female would draw closer, attracted to his eyes.  Suddenly, she felt two arms encircle her body… two well-muscled arms that felt so firm and secure, she wished to be with this man forever.  She still stared into his eyes until a surprise crossed her eyes.  Out of his mouth protruded twin pearly fangs, glinting in the moonlight.  She wanted to run, but also stay with this stranger.  As she struggled over the dilemma of her mind and her heart, she felt cold breath on her neck, then two sharp points pierce the tender flesh on her neck.

  A_bsolutely no angel, and I'll be damned if he ever will be._

  The man could taste the blood running down the side of her neck into his mouth, and the taste was so heavenly, yet so sinful.  Blood was his sustenance, and he loved everything about it: the taste, the consistency, and the way the woman would scream just so as her tender porcelain flesh was pierced.  Lightheaded and delirious, she took one last gaze at this demonic angel and fell to the ground.  With a soft swish of his black cape, the blonde man returned to his dragon-drawn stagecoach.

  Wizardmon bowed his head, reminiscing about when he had witnessed that event.  He had never truly been converted from a good digimon to an evil digimon like myriad of the other henchmen had been, so he had felt empathy for the being that had come within an inch of Death, and nearly cried when they left without a trace except for the wisps of fog in the moonlight, which dissipated within seconds.

  H_is name is feared.  His name should be despised enough to be cursed.  Malevolent, tYrannical, Ominous, Treacherous, Immoral, Satanic, Malignant, Outrage, Nefarious.  Every one of those words describes him exactly.  The entire universe would be better off without him._

  "WIZARDMON!" rang out the voice that belonged to the Master which he loathed so much.  The voice was a deep voice that was beautiful yet haunting, so full of authority, so firm, so full of authority…

  The wizard knew that his Master wanted him, and it would be yet another punishment that he would receive purely for existing in the cruel digital world.  He strode to the upstairs hall, where a lanky figure was concealed by the shadows at the top of the stone stairs.

  S_tone… his castle is made of stone, exactly like his heart.  If he has one._

  The figure stepped into the light, and the Master was shown in his full handsome and nearly angelic glory.  "Explain yourself," he commanded in his voice, full of superiority.

  "Explain myself to what?" inquired Wizardmon, his heart pounding like a hammer in his chest and thumping all the way in his ears.

  "You must explain why you do not execute the plans I wished you to."

  "Please… master… "  _I never want to see his face again._

  "You will pay for this some way or another," said the Master.  He extended an arm, and a shrieking black cloud covered with red eyes flew out at the wizard, nipping at his flesh with every touch.

  "Oh no… bats… THUNDER BALL!"  Wizardmon took his staff, which allowed a ball of thunder to erupt from the sun ornament on top and shoot at the bats, electrocuting them all.  Every last bat fell to the ground like a soggy black leaf.

  The vampire's blue eyes narrowed as he glared at the wizard.  He smiled to himself when he saw Wizardmon shiver when he looked up at him in the eye.  The wizard was frightened beyond his wits when he saw his master angry, because there would be a dire consequence that would most definitely involve exterminating a life in some way or another.

  "No angel… no angel…" Wizardmon repeated to himself as he sprinted down the hall and out of sight.  He could run, but never hide, from his master.  The Master was feared across the digital world, and not one soul could find the courage within to speak his name, which could strike fear into their hearts.  He was the feared Vampire Lord of Server, and considered the evillest, most villainous, and the most powerful digimon in the digital world.  He was one of a kind, a mon unlike any other mon.  He was the legendary ultimate known by the one feared name: Myotismon.

  And it was on one very night in the digital world that everything the vampire lord stood for would change, along with everything he was known for.

  "CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  He let the glowing crimson whip fly through the air, hit the flesh of one of his weaker servants that was a feeble Gazimon with a broken leg.  He had not done his job in such a way to please the vampire lord, so the consequence was, and always had been, punishment.  The Gazimon lost his balance and fell to the ground, blood beginning to run through his dust-colored fur and stain it red.

  Wizardmon appeared in the doorway, breathless.  He had heard the small rabbit's cries for help and knew that that henchman was about to be tortured half to death, or even tortured to death if he was weak enough.  "You hold it right there, Myotismon," he commanded, yet his fear could be heard in the waver of his voice.

  A shiver traveled down his spine as the vampire turned his head towards him, narrowed his eyes, and glared his coldest stone-hearted scowl that could send even the bravest digimon or human back a few meters in step.  The wizard edged a few steps back before he saw a flash of red before his eyes and got knocked onto the cold, hard stone floor by the Crimson Lightning.  His mind heard a loud staticky noise as his vision clouded over by black and brightly-colored sparks.  The wind got knocked out of him, and as he struggled to regain his breath and perception, he heard a loud, shrill shriek, and then the deep laughter that was nearly as frightening as Myotismon himself.

  He knew it was too late.  The wizard knew that the Gazimon had been reconfigured, and as he opened his eyes he saw… nothing.  Not a trace of the Gazimon on the floor, not a lock of his fur nor a splatter of blood.  Then he saw Myotismon retract the whip of Crimson Lightning into his hand and then advance on him.  The vampire loomed over Wizardmon at his full seven feet, seeming more intimidating by the second.

  "Please… master… take pity on me… I have done nothing!" pleaded Wizardmon, holding his hands together as if in prayer.

  "You have not seen a thing.  Leave immediately, wizard scum."  This time, the tone of the master's voice had softened and become less intense, which was quite frightening for an unknown reason among the henchmen in his castle.

  There seemed to be nothing that he could do.  He could have saved the Gazimon if he hadn't shouted out until later… but it was all over.  He silently walked down the dark, torch-lit stone halls of the castle until he reached his cell in the prison cell in the dungeon where he had resided ever since he was kidnapped.  He was fortunate that his cell was not occupied by more than one digimon, for nearly every other cell had more than one prisoner, all stuffed inside wherever they could be.  Everything about it was discomforting, and it was equally discomforting for Wizardmon to think of.

  He looked around his small dungeon cell, with one side completely consisting of thick tarnished metal bars that could not be squeezed through.  The other three walls were made of stone, except for the one across from the barred wall.  There was a small window that had the same bars on them, but the bars were redundant because the window was too small for him to slip through.  On the floor there was a thin straw mat that was supposed to be a bed, two empty clay dishes that were for his infinitesimal servings of bread and water, and what appeared to be blood stains that could not come out.  Nothing was more miserable than life in that melancholy cell, having no other company besides the other prisoners.

  The other prisoners in the castle were just as despondent, if not more, than the wizard was.  Most of them were injured in some way or another, and their wounds were either ignored or poorly treated.  It had been worse than ever, despite the fact that is was nearly Christmas in the real world.  That time of the year was when the humans became friendly towards each other, wishing everyone who passed a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year in some way or another.  Snow gently fell upon the ground… little kids played in it and threw balls of packed snow at each other and the disgruntled passersby… adults put up decorations around the interior and exterior of their homes and shopped for presents for the family… older children grew restless and excited as the one-and-a-half-week vacation drew nearer with each passing day.  Evergreen trees covered with ornaments were displayed in every Christian family's home, with a glowing star or angel perched on the pinnacle.  Wreaths were hung on their doors, adorned with a red velvet bow… brightly-colored lights were hung everywhere, and when the lights went out, a rainbow of light could be seen from hundreds of feet away.  Younger children's stockings were hung over the fireplace, but not too close as to be burned by the soft orange and vermillion flames of the fire that was lit.  Large groups of people wandered the streets and sang Christmas carols, both religious and traditional.  Families got together, delicious foods were cooked, everyone received wonderful presents… everyone was happy and had that warm fuzzy feeling inside, much like an inner glow.

  Wizardmon wished to experience something like that in the digital world.  Sadly, no digimon had ever celebrated a human holiday before, but it still would not make too much of a difference even if they did, for his master would still act as callous and cruel as ever.

  As he remembered the events of that day, staring up at the small sliver of the moon that shone faintly outside the castle window, he kneeled down onto his straw mat and began to pray to the digital gods.  He had constantly heard the desperate pleas from the other cells of the castle, but most of them were to leave this horrible place, or to be with their families and friends again.  Wizardmon had no family to his name, with the exception of his brother Auramon who was safe with his human partner in the real world.  Nor had he any friends, except for his best friend Gatomon and the not-too-well-known acquaintances of the digi-destined and their digimon.  Every last one of those digimon had been reconfigured before their prayers had been truly answered, whether it would be to escape or be reunited.  Maybe they had, for that might be the only way to escape the hades of the castle.

  "To the honorable Ebonwumon, Baihumon, Zhuquiaomon, and my guardian Azulongmon, the almighty Goddramon and the Angemons and Angewomons, Seraphimons and Cherubimons, and all celestial digital beings, a prayer is asked unto you," prayed Wizardmon with his eyes closed and his hands folded, kneeling on his straw mattress without a single movement except for his mouth.  "I am only a champion digimon known as Wizardmon, and I only ask of one favor… one not only for myself, but for the other henchmen who reside in this miserable castle.  My prayer is only to give Myotismon a change of heart.  He must get one, for his cold-heartedness and arrogance are destroying everyone, even those that are not his own henchmen."  He paused in silence.  "Please… if only… if only he could… if only he could become… Angemon or something!"  He began to cry, and two tears rolled down his cheeks.  "I would really like to see everyone happy and content for once…"

  He fell asleep an hour later after tossing and turning, images of every tortured henchman in the castle running through his mind, him wishing he could have done something… ANYTHING about it.  Even though it was over and done with, Wizardmon wished that he had done something to rescue them.  Hearing them scream in agony for the last time as they were reconfigured… what if it was Gatomon?  What would Azulongmon think of that?

  That final thought echoed in his mind as he floated away into a deep, peaceful sleep until the next morning.

  Bright colors flew before his eyes, and gathered into a blurred smear of sky blue and white.  The image began to clear, and the wizard was able to make out the image clearly.  A large pale sky-blue dragon encased by criscrossing silver chains with a silvery beard protruding from its armored head.  It was floating in air with the help of eight pure white wings.

  "Wizardmon," it addressed the wizard in his pure, sonorous voice.

  "Azulongmon," answered Wizardmon, suddenly taken by surprise.  He fell to his knees, which hit nothing but the soft cloud underneath him.

  "This is not just a dream," explained Azulongmon.  "This is the answer to your prayer.  Your answer is in the form of a spell, so take your staff and I shall give you the spell."

  Wizardmon took his sun staff, which was lying on the cloud next to him.  He held it up in the holy dragon's face, and he recited an incantation for the staff.  A golden orb formed around the sun part of the staff, and then it compressed until it fit in the sun.  The wizard could feel a warmth spread through the staff into his fingertips, and he bowed his head.

  "I know you are wondering why I do not cast the spell myself," elucidated Azulongmon.  "The incantation I cast, no matter how potent I have made it, is counteracted by the intense dark magic that has surrounded the castle, and the evil in Myotismon's own chambers has too unbearable for any of us Guardians to ameliorate.  You, by being able to remain inside the castle, can assist the spell in penetrating the barrier and performing it well."  He paused.  "However, there is one catch to it, as there always is.  I will give you an incantation to recite to help the spell travel to Myotismon and turn him into Angemon.  If you do not remember it completely, drastic results will ensue.  Are you willing to keep this in your memory?"

  Wizardmon nodded, and kept his mind open.

  "The words to the incantation are in the ancient digital language that must be pronounced correctly as well.  They are… 'Té xeisànite ei ta daíven ofnu hélrii tanré noen muur, caóm té enje ei raídiei!  Oro bekoni ori knovlusi; debau, caóm xetin; raídei, DOMÉ!'  Do you remember?  Set your staff down and tell me what you know."

  The wizard set his staff on the cloud in front of him, and it vanished.  "The words, Azulongmon, are…  Té xeisànite ei ta daíven ofnu hélrii tanré noen muur, caóm té enje ei raídiei!  Oro bekoni ori knovlusi; debau, caóm xetin; raídei, DOMÉ!  The life of a demon from hell is no more, be the angel of light!  I beckon my spell; evil, be gone; light, PREVAIL!"

  "Excellent," complimented Azulongmon.  "Remember, you must recite it in its entirety, or things may go horribly wrong.  You may awaken and summon."

  Wizardmon opened his eyes, and he found that he had returned to his dungeon cell.  At first he wondered if the spell he remembered was completely from a dream, but then he saw his staff.  Instead of being set in a corner as it had been before he went to sleep, it was beside his straw mat, glowing softly.  He smiled underneath his cloak, knowing that it was real and he must transform the vampire into Angemon before things became too drastic.

  He heard the loud clang that only meant that the barred wall was opening, giving him access to the rest of the castle.  Wizardmon looked in the direction and saw Demidevimon, the rotund rookie with tattered black wings, a black mask covering his face, and two crow's feet.  The small imp, commonly referred to as "that stupid ass-kisser" and "the only henchman who's truly worthy of death" was only there to carry out orders from the vampire himself.

  "Go away," commanded Wizardmon, pointing his staff at Demidevimon.

  "Oh please, that thing doesn't scare ME," scoffed the imp, flapping his wings.  "You have to go to the master immediately.  Something about… new torture, not following enough orders… smarting off to him… standing up to him when he was in the middle of that important business… so much to tell you, so little time."

  "Go away," the wizard repeated.

  "Fine," declared Demidevimon.  "But will… he?"  He flew down the hall, cackling, when SkullMeramon stomped up to the prison bars.  He swung a short length of his flaming white-hot chains around threateningly, and Wizardmon decided to unyieldingly go with him, taking his staff along.  The sooner he could turn Myotismon into Angemon, the better.  He remembered the spell, and he knew it.  He mentally repeated it to himself as he traveled down the halls.

  Finally, they reached the large throne room where Myotismon spent most of the day and the night, unless he was watching a digital duel out of boredom, or feeding on the blood of whatever unsuspecting digimon he could find.  It was the darkest of all, with tarnished silver suits of armor holding black shields against the stained-glass windows that lined two sides of the high walls that extended to a ceiling that was nearly invisible, save an elaborate glass chandelier that hung from it from a long golden chain.  If the fire shone on it just so, one could see the cobwebs that had gathered on it.  On one end of the room, there was a large fireplace that was the only source of light.  On the other, there were three stone steps that led to a platform, on which was a tall black throne that was large enough to fit two of its occupant, lined with silver spikes and skulls.  The rest was black, and the part that was sat on or against was made of velvet.  Sitting regally on the throne was Myotismon himself.

  "Here he is, master," said SkullMeramon.  He briskly walked across the room, where he would be safe from the imminent battle.  The wizard was gripping his staff, and he began shaking with fright as he saw the vampire glare at him with his ice blue eyes.

  "This has gone too far," said Myotismon, standing up and descending from the platform onto the ground, where he evilly sneered as he saw the cowering wizard.  "You have been a terrible servant, and you know exactly what the consequence is.  Death.  You will suffer it now, as I witness your death, and even become the cause of it.  You will be eliminated and forgotten in a matter of seconds.  His left hand began to glow red, and a long bolt of Crimson Lightning protruded from it and extended towards the ground.  He advanced towards the wizard on his long, spindly legs and brandished the Crimson Lightning.  His bats began to fly around him if the wizard should resist.

  Wizardmon knew he had to perform the incantation quickly.  He took his staff and quickly struggled to remember the incantation that he was told, but most of it had escaped from his mind out of fear.  Finally, what he thought was all of it came to mind.  Shakingly, he recited: "Té xeisànite ei ta daíven tanré noen muur, caóm ta enje!  Oro bekoni ori knovlusi; debau, caóm xetin; raídei, DOMÉ!"

  Before Myotismon got the chance to wonder what the wizard had just said, a large blue ball of light flew out of the staff and took a direct hit to his chest.  Somehow, he did not fall over or even stumble backwards as the spell hit him, but he ceased breathing for three seconds.  The light from the ball spread from his chest to the rest of his torso to his limbs and his head, and he began to feel delirious as the light obstructed his vision and surrounded him.  He felt burning, then nothing as the light ceased.

  Suddenly, the vampire felt something completely different.  He felt six pinpricks in his back, as if there were spikes implanted there and growing.  He cried out as he felt six thin, elongated parts protrude from his back in six different places.  They were stretching the back of his suit, about to tear it.  Then they seemed to fold on their own.  He began to break into a sweat as the pain ended.

  "What… what just happened to me?" he asked himself, confused and in pain.  He looked around the throne room and saw Wizardmon.  It was him that did this.  "Wizardmon, you will pay for this!" he shouted.  "BAKEMON!  PHANTOMON!  DEMIDEVIMON!"  His voice rang through the halls until all the grotesque white ghosts, as well as the cloaked phantom with the glowing eyes and the imp rushed into the throne room.

  "What do you wish, Master Myotismon?" asked the phantom in his wavery voice.

  "Destroy Wizardmon!  He just cast a spell on me, and he must pay for the pain it had caused!"

  As all the Bakemon began to form a wall around Wizardmon, the wizard felt a sinking sensation in his stomach that clouded out the fear.  The spell had not been recited correctly, and he had forgotten chunks of it so it only translated to "The life of a demon is no more, be an angel!  I beckon my spell; evil, be gone; light, PREVAIL!"  The spell had only been halfway performed, and nothing more had happened than cause Myotismon to go into a small wave of pain, but not truly turn into Angemon.

  Suddenly, a flash of light that filtered through the gaps between the Bakemon made them cease their preparedness to attack, and instead part and turn around all of a sudden.  As Wizardmon saw it as well, he knew the spell had possibly worked after all.

  Myotismon stood hunched over, then he fell to his knees.  His mask began to change slightly, as the bat wing tips grew crimson feathers at the ends with silvery tips.  Then his hair began to grow as soon as his mask completed its transformation.  It grew from its normal short length to a long golden sheet of straight blonde hair, which hung down to just above his knees, like Angemon's.  He began to breathe normally and stand up.  Suddenly, in the hand where he held the Crimson Lightning, the lightning grew to eight feet long and took on a silvery tint.  It changed into an Angel Rod, with a large moon ornament on top.  The vampire was incredibly afraid and confused about what was happening to him as his bats flew far away into the rafters of the ceiling.

  Then, for the grand finale of the transformation, the six objects that were protruding from his back started to unfold and stretch his suit.  His cape and golden bat clasp began to dissolve, and his gloves and boots were replaced by white skintight ones that appeared much like Angemon's, only they had slightly different markings on them.  Finally his blue suit got torn into hundreds of small strips of blue cloth, and it, and the rest of his old ensemble, dissolved to reveal…

  An almost completely different digimon.  He had long blonde hair, and the exact same handsome face his normal form had.  He even had his pearly white fangs.  He was wearing almost nothing except for a skintight white bodysuit like Angemon's, which clung to the muscles on his limbs.  Much of the portion above his legs was missing, exposing his well-muscled torso and chest.  All that was there was on his arms and above his shoulders.  He had a golden sun ornament on his left shoulder, like Angemon had, and hanging from a silver belt around his waist was a long red cloth that was tattered around the edges.  It was completed with his mode of flight: six pure white bat wings that protruded from his back.  He also had a new name, both parts contradictions of the other.

  AngeMyotismon.

  All digimon would be astounded by this transformation that was the result of a spell gone wrong.  All digimon would shun this new being, and he possibly would never find a place in any heart at all.  A vampire with the likeness of an angel was not one to trust, nor understand.

To be continued…

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I hope you liked ch1!  Please tell me what you think!  I will hopefully upload the next one before I leave for Florida on the 27th!


	2. Nobody's Angel

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback!  *Huggles everyone who read and reviewed ch1*  I am so very sorry that I have not been able to finish this before Florida!  I also apologize for the further delay; I had a nasty case of stomach flu after the trip and was restricted to my bedroom until January 4. :(  Here is part two of the ten-chapter saga.  The surprise villain is introduced!  (I don't think you'll be surprised, but maybe you will be.  You'll comprehend what I'm saying if you read on.)  The romance will also begin!  Read, review, and above all, ENJOY!

Chapter 2

Nobody's Angel

  At first it seemed like absolutely nothing was amiss in the castle, until the word of Myotismon's metamorphosis from a vampire to a cross between an angel and a vampire had spread.  It was more unbearable for Myotismon than any other digimon, knowing that he was too much of a vaccine for the virus types, and too much of a virus for the vaccine types.  His white wings, which shone as if they were lit by the dazzling light of the sun or made of moonbeams, would make him seem less intimidating, counteracting the fangs that he possessed, which were the main cause of his servants' consternation.  His wings folded up by themselves, and fell to their resting position.  It was as if he were wearing a white version of his cape.

  The spectre digimon that were in the room which the transfiguration incident had occurred in were first perplexed to why this had happened to their master—a Child of Darkness, a light-fearing vampire—and why he had become an angel-type vaccine all of a sudden.  They hovered in their positions, their eyes expanded to their maximum circumferences and their pupils no more than small pinpoints; their wide, grotesque mouths dropping at their jaws; they were so speechless that it was like their voices had suddenly been stolen without a trace.  Phantomon had dropped his scythe to the ground, which landed on the stone with a loud clang.  The metallic sound echoed through the room, yet not a single servant had uttered a word about the dissonant noise.

  Wizardmon's reaction differed from those of the loyal ghosts.  He trembled, then slowly edged backwards.  The wizard had assumed that he had mutated the vampire instead of convert him to a data or even vaccine type.  His heart was pounding so hard, one could see the lump in his chest every time it beat.  If the other henchmen got killed, the blame would be entirely his.  He could not put the burden of the accountability on the shoulders of Azulongmon, as the wizard was the one who accepted the challenge of reciting the incantation properly.  If anything at all, he knew Azulongmon should condemn him for doing this atrocious deed.

  Demidevimon, however, was different altogether.  Being the sort of pesky, outgoing digimon that he was, he was speechless for ten seconds after the scythe hit the ground until he jocosely blurted out, "Whoa!  Holy crap!  That outfit's more revealing than that hoochie Zephyrmon's!  So what are you gonna do in that thing, try to get girls attracted to you because they think your face is one only a mother could love?  It's hopeless, I tell ya.  You know, white ain't really your color, especially when it's the color of those six ugly things that are stuck to your back!"

  Myotismon grew outraged at those taunts, so his first instinct was to lash out and attack the imp.  He decided to utilize the first object he knew he possessed, so he took his silver rod and held it in front of him, parallel to the ground.  A crimson glow seemed to bleed through his fingertips and spread all over the surface until it glowed like a neon sign.  He raised it above his head, prepared to give Demidevimon the bashing of a lifetime.  He saw the imp slowly fly backwards and heard him meeky admit, "I was only joking, master!  Please don't kill me!"

  The angel-turned vampire ignored the apology and swung the rod like an axe, and Demidevimon shielded his head with his wings and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the strong impact to the head.  But when the makeshift weapon was halfway to the ground, it stopped in midair all of a sudden, as if the rod knew itself that it was not supposed to be used to abuse other digimon.

  The imp warily opened one eye and looked at his master.  Myotismon was perplexed to why he had just ceased his attack all of a sudden, with slight traces of confusion on his face.  For a strange reason, he had a sensation deep inside him that had a small voice that just told him what he was doing was not only brutal and unorthodox, but just plain WRONG.  Possibly it had been the being… it had a name that humans gave it, but he did not remember what it was called.  It was peculiar that the vampire had not heard or felt the internal entity before he had become a completely different digimon.

  "Master…" the imp breathed, astounded.  "You took pity on me!"

  "I take pity on you, you low slave who dares insult me…  You stupid, ignorant…" muttered Myotismon.  He paused in his personal speech, and somehow could not think of any other negative comments.  It was as if they had escaped his mind without a trace, like a myriad of his prisoners from their cells.  The vampire thought it was even stranger, because he had a long mental list of insults that he rattled off one by one whenever Demidevimon made a bungle in his plans.  He had shouted nearly all of them yesterday when the Bakemon had set up a gigantic trap for the forest leader that consisted of a silver net that was nearly impossible to cut through, which was held up by a twenty-foot stand that was supported by a smaller plank of wood.  When the smaller plank was removed, the trap would crash down onto the forest leader and keep him secured to the ground, immobile.  The leader would remain there with nothing else until he surrendered to Myotismon.  Demidevimon had wondered what the Bakemon were doing outside the castle walls, so he flew outside and asked "Hey guys, what's going on?" innocently.  He flew into the plank, which made the giant equivalent of a fly swatter crash down to the ground.  The leader, a Blossomon, emerged from the heart of the forest with her organic minions.  A small crusade occurred outside of the woods, and the result afterwards was that every last Bakemon who worked on the trap had been reconfigured.  Myotismon became infuriated by the imp's antics and harangued him until his voice grew sore, going down his mental list of every last offense he knew.

  The vampire was looking at Demidevimon, his eyes fixated on his victim's.  The imp's eyes were like he had never seen them before.  They were wide, open windows to his soul.  Trembling with fear… consternation… trepidation… as if he were afraid of him.  _Have I been this intimidating to everyone?_ Myotismon wondered to himself.  _Are all my henchmen afraid of me?  I cannot come back here… not with all the turmoil around here… I need time to think things up, right away._

  Myotismon stood with his head bowed towards the ground, his slender legs spread so they were underneath his shoulders.  He lowered his arms and the rod, which ceased its glowing and turned back into its normal lustrous silver color, so his arms were perpendicular to the ground, held in front of his legs.  He held the rod so it was parallel to the ground.  A soft golden glow began to form around him as his wings erected and unfolded until the six white bat wings had become fully visible.  He raised his head, brought his legs together, and placed his left arm at his side.  The rod-bearing arm pointed it at the window, which opened to the night sky outside.

  "CRIMSON ROD!" he shouted, as if he had known the attack name all his life and had been unleashing it for that long.  A long, straight beam of Crimson Lightning shot out of the tip of the rod like a laser and hit its target off to the right side of the window.  The beam was guided around the window in a perfect circle, its diameter large enough for Myotismon's new gigantic wingspan to fit through.  When the circuitous hole was made, the entire stone wall fell out and landed on the floor with a large thump.  The vampire quickly dashed through the gap in the wall and leapt into the night air without a second thought, as if contemplating suicide.

  The leap took less than five seconds, and instead of flying, the evil digimon began plummeting towards the ground.  Air rushed past him fast, but he just closed his eyes and took it all in like bad medicine.  All of a sudden, his wings turned in such a way that he ceased his plunging towards the rocky surface of the mountain, soaring in a straight direction over the summits of the mountains that surrounded the sinister one on which the castle was located, mounting on his twenty-eight foot wingspan to the sanctuary of the angels.  They might understand him, and possibly accept him.

  As if his wings knew what to do, they turned in such a way that he began to rise upwards, in the direction of the nearest clouds.  The ones that Myotismon was flying to weren't the dark nimbus clouds that constantly hung over his castle, emitting lightning and thunder; these were white cumulus clouds with the moon's silvery-blue sheen on their tops, spread out in a long sheet that looked so comfortable one wanted to sleep on them.  He flew towards them in hope of finding another misunderstood angelic being.

  W_hy do I suddenly look this way?  It is too eerie, even for me, to know.  I have been converted into… what?  An angel?  This cannot be… I am supposed to be feared for being who I am, but how can that be when I take this likeness?  I feel so… so… different, that is what I feel.  It is as if there is a feeling I have never felt or experienced before, and what is this voice telling me this nonsense about everything being right or wrong?  I have a pain in my chest when I think of all the wrong I have ever done, but why in the hell does this come to me now?  Why have I never perceived such emotions within me before?  Is it because I could be… instead of Myotismon… AngeMyotismon?  Why must this Ange- prefix be present in my name?  I am still who I am, despite these exterior changes._

  "Are you?" inquired a voice behind him, which sounded exactly like the vampire's, only a lot darker and more sinister.  As the voice sounded, the moon produced a blood-red glow, a glow that could only be yielded when the vampire was around.  Myotismon, suspicious by the occurrence, turned his head around to become even more discomfited than before, for standing in front of him was himself.

  This version of Myotismon was not his true form, but rather, a darker replica that could have only been generated after he morphed into an angel.  His hair was the same blonde hair that was neatly slicked back, with the three stray strands hanging in his handsome pale face.  The mask was black, with tips with a similar appearance to those of bat wings.  His cape was taller, black on the outside and red on the interior.  His suit was a tight black leather suit that resembled Devimon's, was open down to the red belt around his waist, and had nothing else on it except for two red bat-shaped tableaus on the shoulders.  His gloves and boots were black with silver skulls on them, held onto the bodysuits by gleaming silver cuffs, with the gloves' cuffs appearing as if they were broken handcuffs with a single broken chain hanging down from each.  His face was handsome and emotionless, with two blue eyes that could not only send shivers down one's spine, but could cause every being in the surrounding area to feel a polar draft around them.

  "I do not think you've met me before, but maybe you have," said the darker Myotismon.  "I am your darker side, the shadow of death that has prevailed in your natural ultimate form.  They call me the Shadow Mode."  He bowed his head.

  The angelic version of the vampire slowly backed away as if in fear, but the expression on his face showed that he wished to fight.  "What in the bloody hell do you want with me?" he inquired.

  The Shadow Mode evilly sneered.  "I merely wish to reunite with you, for we have been separated when your unfortunate transformation took place prior to when we met.  That little fool Wizardmon did not know how evil you would become, despite this idiotic appearance you have taken on."  He strode closer to AngeMyotismon and stared at him straight in the eyes, sending shivers down his spine and cold waves over his scantily clad body.  "I want you to lose the wings and take on the form of the true Myotismon once again.  He was such a wonderful digimon in this world…"

  "Only because YOU were him!" snapped the angelic form.  "Somehow I do not wish to be him again, but I have a yearning to have remained in that form."

  "You still can," replied the Shadow Mode.  "Listen to your cravings for the blood of female humans, and obey them.  Their blood is so delicious, the ambrosia of the vampires like myself and what you were.  Remember its strong flavor, so warm and soothing as it poured down your throat, satisfying your potent thirst that you would kill to satiate.  And fear… that was the most exquisite essence that made the blood ever so luscious.  You said yourself that human blood always tasted better with a dash of fear in it."

  AngeMyotismon refused to listen to a word of what this evil being was saying, but somehow he began to reminisce about when he traveled to Earth and drank the blood of so many young women when the description was given.

  "And you must not forget the way those girls screamed out when you sank your fangs into the tender flesh of their necks.  So shrill and high-pitched, full of pain and dread.  How you relished everything about it… how the appetizing red liquid gushed out of the twin wounds of her neck into your mouth, you savoring its succulent taste, your tongue running up and down her pallid neck, trying to catch every last drop of blood that flowed from the twin agony it gave her… letting her drop to the ground, her face nearly as pale as yours, your hunger finally satisfied."

  "LEAVE!" shouted AngeMyotismon.  He withdrew his rod and pointed it at his darker form.

  "Do you really believe that your attacks can stop me?" questioned Myotismon Shadow Mode.  "LETHAL DARKNESS!"  He drew his arms back, then whipped them forward, unleashing a darkness so powerful light could not escape it from his cape.  Before the angel could do anything, he was enveloped in a wave of pure darkness, which drained his energy out of his skin, letting him fall limp with only his wings supporting him in the air.  Then the Shadow Mode held his left arm out, his palm facing the large cloud of darkness, and allowed the energy to flow into himself.  All that remained after the stamina was extracted was AngeMyotismon, weakly floating in the sky, his wings exherting one final flap before he dropped onto the satiny surface of the clouds, his hands beneath him in shaky support.

  "Have you had enough, or do you want some more?" asked Myotismon Shadow Mode.  "No matter what your reply may be, I will give you more, which will be the worst you get!  MEGA CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"

  AngeMyotismon opened his eyes and encountered a thick red whip of Crimson Lightning lash from the agile hand of his darker counterpart through the air and scourge him across his back, striking all six wings in one blow— the white bat wings quickly aligned and stood erect in the air, the parts that were whipped turning as crimson as the lightning itself, manifesting a scalding sensation that was so overwhelming the angel-turned vampire cried out in anguish for the first time than since he could remember and collapsed onto the crest of the cloud.  His wings fell onto his back, limp as rags.  As he attempted to catch his breath, he saw another lightning bolt crash down onto the surface of the cloud, penetrating it all the way through until it hit his side.  He screamed out again as it struck, a searing pain forming in that very area the attack collided with.  The force was so strong, he flipped over so he was lying on his wings, perspiring from the burning that he was feeling, worse than anything else.

  "You must surrender to your dark side, and make sure you do, or else disaster will occur to not only yourself, but all worlds as well," commanded the Shadow Mode, brandishing his weapon.

  The angel looked at the Crimson Lightning bolt, then moaned as he felt the burn in his side grow even more agonizing then ever.  The temptation of becoming the true Myotismon seemed appealing to him, at least in his mind.  His heart wanted him to take a different path, the good path.  The feeling clouded out his thoughts in his mind, advising him to not listen to the pain, and if he must sacrifice something for not only his own good, but for the good of others, then so be it.  The Shadow Mode could be tamed that way.

  "I REFUSE to surrender to the likes of you!" shouted AngeMyotismon, astonished that he had said that all of a sudden, possibly even more than the Shadow Mode had.

  "So be it, you ungrateful bastard!" shouted Myotismon Shadow Mode.  "You chose the wrong path, which will end in your sudden death!"  He guided the whip into the air and spun it around, letting it crack a few times before allowing it to crash down onto the angel's bare chest, leaving a shiny raw red mark that was especially noticeable on his pale skin.  AngeMyotismon clenched his teeth as he skidded back towards the edge of the cloud, his hand hanging over the edge that gave way to a free fall through the sky to the ground that remained thousands of feet below.  Myotismon Shadow Mode advanced towards his angelic counterpart, dragging his whip through the surface of the now-dark cloud.  He stared at him in the eye without a blink, then let the whip crash down onto its victim, straight up his torso and over his face, leaving a long red mark wherever it hit, drawing blood out of the now-open wound on his chest and on his forehead.  AngeMyotismon flew off the side of the cloud when the whip hit, crying out from the intense pain that his own lightning had brought him.

  Myotismon Shadow Mode did nothing except darkly chuckle to himself, then let his millions of bats flutter around him until he disappeared in a small column of dark grey smoke.  The bats flew away from the moon and into the distance.  Little did the darker version of the vampire know that there would be yet another angel that would get tangled in the dispute.

  The other angel was not Angemon, but rather his female counterpart.  She also had golden hair that fell down to her legs, without a single snare as if she had spent hours brushing it; a silver hemet that covered two amethyst-blue eyes that were hidden underneath; a white bodysuit that clung to her every curve, with portions ripped away to reveal much of her bare skin underneath; fair skin that took on a rosy tint; pink ribbons winding around her shoulders and her wings, and six white feathery angels' wings.  She was known as Angewomon, an Angel of Light.

  Angewomon had perched on a towering cloud near the moon prior to everything, and when she saw that the silver orb in the sky had turned a bright crimson, she knew that Myotismon had arrived and was causing some sort of turmoil in the digital world.  She felt a weight drop into the pit of her stomach, knowing that some sort of life was at stake in some manner or another.  Her six soft feathery wings, white as snow and without a single imperfection about them, as angels' wings always were, spread gently into the air and assisted the female angel in takeoff.  Her intuition served as a guide to where the fight was occurring, and how urgently she was needed.  The result of it was that the combat was transpiring not too far away from Nightmare Castle, far above the mountain range; the victim of this unfortunate row was… an angel.

  "Angemon!" she shouted from the knowledge of the only angel she was close to.  She soared through the heavens much faster than she had before, wishing she could arrive before it was too late.

  When she reached the area of the fight, she looked about her frantically and saw nothing but a black cumulus cloud gradually lightening into the tint it had been and a flock of bats flying in the opposing direction of the moon, which still remained blood-red, signaling that an angel was in great peril of being reconfigured, upsetting the delicate balance in the digital world.

  "ANGEMON!" she cried once again, whipping her head around frantically, searching for a sign of the angel that she had loved so dearly.  Suddenly she saw a white streak plummeting towards the ground, and positive that it was Angemon, she dove off the cloud and shot downwards until she was even with the angel in peril.  She stretched her arms out and grabbed him around his thin waist to ensure that he would not fall again.  She turned herself upwards and glided to the nearest cloud, where she laid the— literally— fallen angel on his back, where the surface of the cloud would cool the burns on his wings.

  There was something familiar about him… he seemed to have some parts of Angewomon's male counterpart, such as his long tresses of hair, but the mask and the six bat wings protruding from his back gave the answer to who this was.

  "What should I do?" wondered the angel maiden to herself.  "Should I heal him and let him live, or should I let him be?  After all, he possesses a remarkable resemblance to every digimon's mortal enemy, Myotismon…"

  "Did you say my name?" questioned the angel Myotismon in a weak voice, opening his azure eyes and staring at the angel, who was leaning over him.  "Do not kill me… I have already been through so much already that I do not wish to say anything about…"

  "Please, tell me," requested Angewomon, feeling more brave than she had when she had realized that her adversary was the one whom she had just rescued.  "I promise I won't harm you in any way, unless I feel that it is my duty as an angel that extinguishes evil.  That is not my way, for I give every soul a chance, no matter what they do.  The only circumstance in which I will destroy you is if you have truly done so many diabolic actions that I find you a threat to any and all worlds…"  She laid her hands on the burn on his chest as she spoke, feeling a slight tingle as her hands made her way over Myotismon's well-muscled torso, healing the wound that had been formed by the lightning with her touch.  She even blushed when she gazed into his eyes, at that point trailing off.

  "I was… I was about to kill one of my henchmen when Wizardmon recited a spell of some sort that transformed me from Myotismon into this freak.  Every one of the others was about to torture me with the same ridicule that Demidevimon had given me, and I saw how Demidevimon's eyes had changed… somehow I was looking directly into his soul, knowing what he felt.  I was very confused, so I flew off to think things over in solitude, but it was not as secluded as I thought it was because I found… I saw…"  He trailed off, fearful of what Angewomon, who was so compassionate towards him, would imagine when he told her.

  "You saw what?" whispered the angel maiden, brushing her hand against the side of his face.

  Finally, after a prolongued pause, the answer escaped.  "Myself," replied Myotismon.  "He was more evil than I was as an ultimate alone, as if he had broken away when I changed into this.  He called himself the Shadow Mode."

  Angewomon appeared concerned about this.  "I know exactly what you mean…" she revealed.  "I myself have an evil corollary who is known as LadyDevimon.  Angemon has Devimon, and Goddramon has Apocalymon…  It is an anathema that is bestowed upon every angel in the digital world, no exceptions whatsoever.  Where there is light in nearly every world, it is countered by an evil that coincides with it in amplitude and potency.  The greater the light, the greater the darkness.  Goddramon, known as the god of the digital world, is the most powerful of all good, and his dark counterpart is Apocalymon, who was granted the ability to decimate the entire world at will… you, as an angel, now have a demonic twin who may delete all forms of light as we know it.  The only one who is able to eradicate him is you, and I know you can…"  She trailed off and softly blushed as her eyes wandered over him, as if she were in love.

  But how could she be involved in any sort of romance other than her and Angemon, the only one suitable for the position of her life partner?  The vampire had attempted to kill her a number of times that was so great it had been forgotten, but somehow it seemed to be forgotten for a brief moment.  His physical features were incredibly attractive, but would his soul be analogous with his physique?  He did look like an angel, yet… there seemed to still be something that the angel could not put her finger on that made him more of a virus than a vaccine… what if his soul was still as hideous as it had been when he was still a vampire?  What if he still had that seemingly unquenchable thirst for blood?  And what if Angemon knew she was in love with Myotismon?…

  "I must go," she quickly said, pained that she thought she needed to depart.  She stood upright and spread her wings, then leapt into the air.  "I will return!  Rest and you shall be fine again!"  Angewomon flew into the distance towards her home in the clouds, where Angemon was standing there solemnly, his face so expressionless his female companion grew frightened.

  "I know about it," he said to her.  "I know about the new angel soaring in these heavens, and how you helped him tonight."

  "I'm sorry," Angewomon quickly, but not sincerely, apologized.  "I only did what I thought was helpful for a fellow vaccine…"

  "Fellow vaccine?!" shouted Angemon.  "Do you not know that he may still be a virus despite the wings?  Please, I am only saying this to warn you, but never jump to conclusions, for the result can be quite unexpected.  He may seem handsome on the outside, but he may be hideous on the inside.  To repeat the most important point, you must never jump to conclusions; the results can be devastating."

To be continued…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	3. You Are Mine

A/N: I was not waiting for anything; just suffering from writer's block with Forever Virus.  Plus working on the Myo shrine.  And everyone else in my family wants to use the computer.  Thank you to all of you who stick around!  I appreciate it very much.  I am very very VERY sorry it took so long to update!

Oh, by the way, for those of you who want to see a picture of AngeMyotismon, just go to my fan art account at www.mediaminer.org (under the pen name Athena1999) or simply go to the following page: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=127752.

Chapter 3

You Are Mine

  Angewomon knew exactly what Angemon had implied by that statement.  He had chastised his female counterpart that though Myotismon's appearance had altered, especially with the hair and the attire, and though he had even grown wings, was the vampire truly as the prefix of his new name denoted, or was everything consistent no matter what the form?  The question burned in her mind like a well-fed fire, and every time she attempted to lead her mind astray from the thought, everything was just drawn back to it somehow.

  I_s Myotismon truly good?  He is an angel, after all.  I have always had somewhat of a soft spot for him in my heart, though my mind did not want me to think so.  Every whip from his Crimson Lightning… every time he lashed out at me simply for having my eyes: a feature I simply cannot alter… I felt a slight twinge of pain between my stomach and my chest, and tears seemed to escape my eyes.  I have led myself to believe that those were tears from the searing hot burns of the whip, but now I realize that those were tears of heartbreak.  He had always been so diabolic in my eyes, but now all I see is an angel who wishes to be respected like I did after he fell from the sky._

  Angemon believed that Angewomon understood what he admonished her about, how not to make so many snap judgements like he had seen the digi-destined Tai make whenever he enountered a digimon that even appeared evil.  Even his partner, for Goddramon's sakes, had been lulled into thinking the kiss-ass imp Demidevimon was his friend, a much better companion than himself as Patamon.  All because why?  He had jumped to conclusions.  It had landed the angel in hot water with the partially-evolved demon.  He was not afraid to admit to himself that he was being slightly cautious about things, but he refused to believe that he could be paranoid at some times.

  E_verything is all confusing to me.  Part of me wants to believe that he may be good after all; the digital world recognizes him as an angel in his physical state, as the moon had proven by going from grey to blood-red, as it has always done when one of us angels is in great peril.  However, physical may be all it knows.  Underneath those white wings and his golden glow, I see the vampire that has inflicted terror upon the digital world and the real world with his darkness, fog, bats, and henchmen.  This so-called "angel" has held over a thousand children captive in the local convention hall, over fifty of which he slaughtered in the presence of their own PARENTS.  Not just physically, but emotionally.  I remember that one night…_

  Angemon's mind spun the very picture he had witnessed in the convention center when he entered with the other digi-destined.  As Patamon, he grew fearful of the abomination that played itself before his eyes once, then over and over in his head for months afterwards, and even gave him a nightmare once.  As he entered the center, he saw a small group of roughly twenty frightened children, all between five and twelve years of age, huddled together in their fear, screaming and crying.  One of them held his hands over his eyes.  They would have run for their lives except for a ring of Bakemon that were joined together and encircling them, their beady black eyes and drooling mouths full of pointy teeth facing them.  It was enough to give even the bravest child a nightmare, more frightening to a young child than a horror movie.

  "MOMMY!" screamed one of the girls, rushing up to the digital obstruction as her mother did the same.  Their arms were extended in front of them, and the mother appeared courageous enough to even die if it gave her daughter her freedom.

  Just as the mother arrived at the wall, she got a good look at Phantomon.  His ash-colored cloak, torn at the hems, was draped over his body that had never been seen by any creature.  A hood enveloped his mysterious face in shadow, with the exception of two slanted glowing red eyes.  Around his neck on a tarnished gold chain was a pendant of a red eye that was capable of absorbing and storing energy.  The parent grew intimidated and edged three timid steps backwards.  Then the phantom produced his golden scythe, his ultimate weapon.  Its blade was long and thin, curving downward until it ended at a point.  The edges were stained with the blood of a myriad of victims who were foolish enough to stand up to his master.

  A high-pitched scream erupted from the woman's lips.  The color drained away from her face, making her as pallid as a ghost.  She began to tremble, then sprint away before she stumbled over her own feet and crashed down onto her stomach on the solid, cold, tiled floor.  Phantomon loomed over her with his scythe in hand, and she quickly turned over.  Seeing the spectre hovering above her, she shrieked again and quickly maneuvered away on her hands and feet, not averting her eyes from Phantomon until the phantom approved of the distance between her and her daughter.

  It seemed to the humans that things could not get any worse.  Their children were hollering for their parents to come, all in tears.  Even the twelve-year olds were about to lose their cool.  There was absolutely nothing the parents could do about it with such reinforcements like the Bakemon.  They began hugging their spouses or close friends out of fear and oppression.

  "My children!" exclaimed an unidentifiable voice.

  All of a sudden, there was a complete blackout.  It was as if there was a power outage for that particular building, for not another portion of Tokyo had suffered from this power outage.  The lights snapped off with a loud boom, then out of the twin metal doors that led from the east hall into the atrium of the center, a dark teal fog began to filter underneath the minute crack that separated the doors from the floor.  As the doors began to slowly part, the mist spilled through and spread through the room, obstructing everyone's view.  Several of the humans were perplexed at this sight; fog did not accumulate indoors where the moisture level was at its lowest.  Others were afraid.

  "What the hell is going on?" shouted the only man who dared to speak.  "Where is Kenji?"

  "I believe our son is with the other children," whispered the man's wife, laying her quivering hand on his shoulder assuringly.  "…I hope."

  Like the Red Sea in the Biblical book of Exodus, the vapor parted in a straight line down the center and ceased at the door.  The two halves billowed away to give way to a silhouette of a humanoid creature, who stepped into the room authoratively.  He walked down the aisle between the two clouds, flashing glances at the fearless-looking humans with his icy blue eyes.  Several bats fluttered behind him, as those winged creatures followed him everywhere like moths towards the light.

  The entire vicinity grew hushed; no sounds could be heard except for the soft sound of the vampire's weighty black boots touching the floor with every step.  The children tremored at the sight of this mysterious tall blonde man, who laid eyes on each of them.  All of their throats grew dry and seemed to swell shut from fright.  Not a sound could escape their lips, they were so afraid.

  The twelve-year old girl thought differently.  She seemed drawn to him in a way, believing that everything about him was mesmerizing.  Her eyes could not draw themselves away from his, no matter what.  She had a strong urge to lean in and kiss him, for he was so handsome, so sexy, especially with the way his hair hung in his face and his pearly white fangs that seemed to gleam in the faint light.  She made her way towards him as if in a dream to get a closer look.  He seemed to be walking towards her as well.

  "It's HIM!" she whispered.  "I want to be with him…"

  All she wanted to do was be with him forever.  He was better than any male celebrity she had ever seen before… and he was in the same room as her!  He seemed even better up close.  And he smelled so good.  The adolescent youth wanted to be taken underneath his black cape…

  However, Myotismon refused to see all this.  He had seen several women give him the same reaction.  _Damn these good looks,_ he thought to himself.  "Young lady, do you know why you are here?" he addressed her.

  At first the girl was astounded that this irresistible man was speaking to her.  She blushed deeply, then pushed her black hair out of her dark eyes.  "The ghosts brought me here," she answered without a stammer.

  "What is your name?"

  "My name?  My name is Rena."

  "Rena… interesting name for a human.  Tell me, Rena, have you seen this cat before?"  He held out Gatomon, who was dangling limply in his hand, appearing more emotionally pained than physically.

  "Gatomon…" breathed Patamon.  "Goddramon help her!"

  "No," replied Rena.

  "Gatomon!" shouted the vampire, startling everyone who was near him.  "Is this the child?" he growled.

  "No, master," replied the white cat.  "I swear I have never seen her before in my life."

  "Leave my sight," commanded Myotismon, pushing her away.

  The girl began to softly weep as she landed on her stomach on the ground.  She looked up at the one she had gotten a temporary crush on and no longer saw his handsome face.  She instead had a view of a hideous soul that prevailed.  _Why? _She thought to herself.  "I thought you were going to love me!" she screamed, then began to cry.

  It had been an instance of teenage infatuation that occurred to all humans who have recently experienced the changes in their body, but the girl did get her heart broken.  As Angemon had learned, Rena had seen Myotismon several times before, every one of those times drinking the blood of other women in the park, where she had brought her two younger brothers and their friends every night that summer.

  That night, her mother was finishing work on her laptop and occasionally looking up to see how her children were doing.  She was busy pushing her brothers on the swings when she saw a dark stagecoach slowly roll behind a large tree, then halt near a lamppost.  A fog was escorted by it and spread throughout the entire park.

  At first, the young girl was curious and wanted to see what was happening.  She silently slipped away and snuck behind a large bush that was near the tree.  She saw the door of the stagecoach open slowly, a few bats fluttering out and perching in the trees.  She gasped, then clamped her hands over her mouth as her eyes wandered to what was coming out.

  The door swung open as another woman crossed its path, and the vampire had stepped out and approached the woman.  As he turned his head towards the tree as if seeing if his bats had found a place to perch.  She got her first glimpse at his handsome face, but not until she heard her mother calling her to leave because there was too much fog.

  "NO!" her mind screamed.  But her body drew herself away so as not to get into trouble with her mother.

  For nights afterwards, Rena had dreams about this mysterious man, all of which were romantic, sometimes erotic.  Then when she had her heart broken the next week, she could barely eat or sleep.  Her parents had no clue what was wrong with her, and neither did her doctor or even her friends.

  "Angemon," spoke a soft female voice from behind the angel, startling him from his sudden flashback.

  Angemon turned his head to see Angewomon standing behind him in her radiance.  "Yes?" he asked.

  "Look, I know you think… HE is still evil, but remember that he can change!" the angel maiden elucidated.  "Maybe he did become an angel after all, but it might take more than just a personality analysis to know. I got a small glimpse of his soul after he fell from the sky and allowed me to heal his wounds."

  Angemon turned his back on his female parallel and stared at the moon before his eyes before answering with, "And how would you know he is an angel?  For all you know, Angewomon, it could have all been a ploy to get you to solicit his trust, then stab you in the back while you are lulled into thinking he is truly good after all."

  "I can PROVE that he is an angel!" challenged Angewomon, leaping into flight.  "Come with me, and I will show you.  He may be a dark angel, but he is an angel."

  The reluctant male angel spread his six wings, bounded into the air, and followed the maiden through the skies.

  At that exact moment, Myotismon was seated on a small cloud that was just the right side to fit him, his back turned away from the silver orb of the moon.  His white bat wings hung down his back like his cape as if he needed warmth.  But surprisingly, he did not require any heat at all in his surroundings; despite having less covering on his body than any other humanoid digimon he knew of.  It seemed that being a heavenly being produced a pleasant natural warmth that surrounded him everywhere that was not too warm or too cold.

  That seemed to be the only positive point of his new life.  He was too evil for the good digimon, too good for the evil digimon, and to the Datas he was simply a freak.  A vampire crossed with an angel was a complete outcast to all digimon.  It was his life as a newborn in the Primary Village all over again.  He was bombarded with so much ridicule then… and now.  His henchmen were stifling their laughter, and Demidevimon had just let it all out.

  As tears began to form in his eyes, one positive thought clouded out all the other negative ones that seemed to have dominated everything.  Angewomon.  She seemed to understand him, almost as if she… loved him.  Love?  Myotismon had never loved once in his life, not as a vampire and possibly not as an angel.  Humans had possibly felt some sort of emotions for him, but they were HUMANS.  He knew about those masses of flesh and blood from reading about him in a book that was a detailed history of Earth.  Their minds were so fickle, they were all most likely dissing him in his mind or had even forgotten about him.

  But what would his sustenance be?  Blood, his ambrosia, his nectar, the support of his LIFE…  that was what had been for every one of his meals and satisfying occasional cravings.  He was an ANGEL now.  Yet he knew his sharp life-draining fangs were still existent, and he felt a powerful thirst that water or wine could not fully quench.  He absolutely needed blood, or he thought he would die.

  At first he was quite antagonistic towards the idea, but his Shadow Mode's voice was still echoing in his mind, his descriptions making the urges more and more powerful.  Blood was the only thing on the half-vampire's mind.  All he saw was stained blood-red, and his fangs began to protrude from his mouth, him aching to feed.  As if by instinct, he leapt off his cloud and flew closely towards the ground, where he saw exactly what he wanted.  A female Rosemon was lying on the ground, supported on a mattress of soft red roses.  He could smell the blood rushing through her veins, such a warm and delicious smell, like a nice hot dinner for a human after they entered their home from the cold, longing for warmth.

  He knelt on the ground and gently placed one of his arms under her lower back, and slid the other under her neck.  He brought the pixie up slowly as to not wake her up.  He could hear the liquid now, aching to feed himself.

  "Say goodbye, Rosemon," said Myotismon so softly it was barely a whisper.  "I will love your blood."  He brought her neck close to her face and brushed her hair out of the way to reveal a surface of fair skin.  He leaned in, then plunged his fangs right into Rosemon's neck.

  She let out a shrill cry that was heard by hardly anyone before the pain got too overwhelming, causing her to fall limply in the vampiric angel's arms.

  Myotismon felt the blood pour from the wounds into his mouth and down his throat… so warm… so strong… so delicious… so sweet.  This satisfied his thirst better than anything else had ever done.  Blood had never had such a sweet taste as it gushed out of the twin piercings, the vampire savoring the taste until there was no more escaping, so he began to suck whatever blood was left in this nearly-dead female digimon.

  "MYOTISMON!" shouted a familiar voice, sounding both heartbroken and furious.

  The vampire instinctively turned his head around to see Angewomon on the verge of tears and a scornful Angemon standing on the ground behind him.

  "Angewomon…" he said, standing up, prepared to explain.  "I can explain all this… my thirst grew too overpowering… it took over my mind… I am a vampire after all."

  "So overwhelming that you possibly killed the leader of the forest?" questioned Angemon brusquely.  "Look at poor Rosemon!  Her blood has been drained dry.  Her skin is so sallow now, and even thr flower decorations on her ensemble have withered away, brown and dead.  As well as the twin punctures on her neck… right where a vampire would bite it, are not leaking blood."

  "I… did not know," replied Myotismon, slowly backing away, yet sounding defensive.

  "How could you not?" demanded the angel.

  "It could have been any other Rosemon!" retorted the vampiric angel.

  All of a sudden, despite the moisture in the air, all the vegetation that was part of Rosemon's domain, which was a vast majority of the entire digital world, suddenly began to die.  All the leaves on the trees and flowers wilted and lost much of their color, then as if by a time lapse, their tint rapidly changed into a drab brown.  They all shriveled up and fell to the ground, all brown, crinkly, and dead.  The trees' branches began to limp and turn black at the edges, then the color spread to their trunks.  The trees had died as well.  Finally, the grass and everything else rooted to the ground began to crunch beneath all the feet that trampled them.  Then they turned brown as well, then as if a wildfire had hit the entire domain of the rose fairy, everything turned into gray ashes that covered the now-dusty ground that was deprived of its foliage as its leader broke up and reconfigured herself into a digiegg.

  Angewomon burst into tears.  "I cannot believe you," she sobbed as she buried her face in her hands.  Her male counterpart held her close to himself for support.  "I thought you had truly changed!"

  Angemon's expression was furious, one he had not experienced before.  However, inside, he had the feeling that no matter how much he had of, could not satisfy him.  He was boasting to himself, knowing that he was correct and that his enemy was getting his just desserts after the main course of blood from one of the most respected digimon of the woodlands.

  "You dare call yourself an angel!" he snapped.  "For you are not!  The wings and the white suit just give a first impression that you are.  But you have double-crossed us by not only destroying the queen of the digital forest, but her entire domain!  With your sort of atrocious bloodthirsty behavior, you could wipe out the entire digital world and not care for a single being except yourself.  You have been nothing except arrogant your entire life, regarding no one besides your looks, your well-being, your strength.  You believe everything is about you.  Angels are not like that, as everyone knows.  They are righteous, empathetic, generous, and think of everyone except themselves.  Which is everything you are not."

  Somehow, it got to the vampire.  He seemed to feel remorseful about his past actions.  "I am ashamed of what I have done, but I cannot control this horrible thirst for blood!" he shouted.  "It is my curse, not a blessing as I thought it was.  I am deeply sorry for what I did to Rosemon, and am willing to sacrifice ANYTHING for forgiveness."

  "That is for the grand council of angels to decide," Angemon pointed out, not able to conceal the grin on his face.  "And by the way, they know what you have done was intentional and covetous.  I believe they will show little tolerance, if any at all, for he with the name of Myotismon."

  All of a sudden, Myotismon felt his arms swing behind his back, then get bound together by cuffs made of light that fastened so securely he was not able to move them.  Then he found himself with the two pure angels in a hall made of white marble that seemed to produce an effervescent glow, its walls lined with pure crystal windows that gave viewing access to the surrounding sky, and a large circular one on its dome-shaped marble ceiling.  On one end was a large white podium that towered above everything, and in it, the grand angel Seraphimon was seated.  There was another white seating place like the kind jurors sat in, where ten digital angels that varied in appearance were convening with solemn faces.

  "Lord Seraphimon," Angemon addressed, "and the Grand Angel Council, can you identify THIS digimon?"  He motioned to AngeMyotismon, who was shamefully standing in the center of the court, his head hanging and his wings limp on his back.

  "Ah yes," boomed the Grand Angel.  "He, good angel, is the AngeMyotismon, the angelic form of the demon Myotismon.  He seems to have transformed from his natural ultimate form, being one of his kind and his likeness.  He is, by appearance, a vaccine type.  But does his behavior prove otherwise?"

  "He has BETRAYED us!" outcried Angemon.  "Being an angel, he has done so by drinking the blood of Rosemon, the Queen of the Digital Forests.  Every single piece of vegetation, down to the last blade of grass, has withered away and died thanks to him!  An angel must not be that way!  He must respect all life in the digital world no matter how insignificant it may seem.  Thanks to him, all digimon may die out forever, being extinct for—"

  "CALM DOWN AND GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!" screamed Angewomon, startling even herself.  "He did not mean it!  He was thirsty for blood, and that is a craving even out of his control."

  "You are not forgetting, Angewomon, that he is not a vampire anymore!"

  "But you said that he was still a vampire!  I am beginning to think that you do not want him in this world!  There are so many darknesses greater than his."

  "Name one then.  Name a digimon, even a human, worse than him."

  There was a deafening silence.

  "Do you not remember his behavior towards you as Gatomon?  The way he tortured you with his unique torment methods simply for giving him a glance with your eyes?  The way he could drain the life of any female human by luring her into his trap?  The way you have witnessed him killing other henchmen, just tearing their lives away, for not doing the job up to his high standards?"

  At that point, Myotismon felt a sensation of guilt tearing away in his chest.  He had not felt that way before, but when he was reminded of all he had done, it seemed to weigh him down.

  "And Lord Seraphimon, remember that Wizardmon had prayed to all of you for assistance?  You and the guardians assumed that transforming him into one of us elite beings would do him good, but his deportment is EXACTLY the same as it was in his Viral stage."

  The vampire listened to everything that was said about him, then began to cease his paying attention and opted to focus on how he felt about everything.  It was like a horrible dream, as if he were being damned.  It was as if he had died and was awaiting the final judgement about his doom.  Every last statement passed in a dreamy blur.  Angemon seemed to be testifying against him; Angewomon was attempting to defend him despite her heartbreak; Seraphimon was attentively listening to everything.  His eyes began to well up with tears of guilt and oppression.  This was exactly like a nightmare… only it was a reality.  His destiny was flashing before his eyes.

  "The Grand Council has reached its decision," declared Seraphimon, halting the vampire's train of thought.  "AngeMyotismon, for betraying the other angels who are now your type and acting unangelic, you will be given a serious consequence until you can prove yourself worthy of your Ange- title."

  There was a strong silence.  Myotismon slowly looked up at the angel, bracing himself for death or worse.

  "You are banished from the digital world.  Your life will be spent in the real world until, like I said, you can verify worthiness."

  A round portal opened in the middle of the room behind the half-angel, emitting a brilliant light.  Myotismon felt himself move towards the portal, though he did not want to.  As the cuff dissolved, the portal sucked him inside like a vacuum and closed to reveal absolutely nothing where it had been.

  Angewomon did not know how to respond to this, especially when she secretly wished the gate could have taken her as well.

To be continued…


	4. Eyes

A/N: Hello once again, and my SINCERE APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAY!!!!  So many plausible excuses: Homework, sidetracking, computer occupied, time limited, writer's block, and TRACK AND FIELD PRACTICE!  Yes, I am now on the school's track team (My bet is that I'll be on JV, though the varsity team has been undecided.)  My website's still being worked on, so posts will take a bit longer than expected.  Especially with an overload in schoolwork and the computer being occupied by others.  I promise they'll be a lot less rushed than I made the conclusion of the last.  By the way, I made up PyroAngemon.

Chapter 4

Eyes

  A brisk gale blew through the vacant streets and alleyways of Tokyo, winding around and through the endless metal jungle of skyscrapers, vehicles, and fences.  In the hushed dead of the winter night, every human in the vicinity was tucked safely away in their bed, their heads having sunk into their pillows and the covers drawn up to their chins, motionless except for their soft breathing.  Every one, it seemed, was dreaming of positive scenes, the reveries of the Christian population anticipating the upcoming Christmas morning.  Not a soul was awake, with the exception of one.

  Standing on the surface of a wide, gray cumulus cloud which was in front of Earth's immense silver moon, he was looking down at the human world below, every single structure reminding him of an event influenced by him.  They had rebuilt everything so quickly, he was truly amazed at what those primitive bundles of flesh and blood could accomplish.  His arms were at his sides, legs slightly parted as his feet were implanted in the cloud, which had partially risen above them.  His six snow-white bat wings laid flat on his back, draping over him like his former cape.  The massive concrete buildings and the moon's light gently shining down upon it reflected in his blue eyes.

  "The digi-destined are here," he breathed, barely in a whisper.  "I can feel it… every one is somewhere in the city."

  A slight breeze blew his golden blonde hair slightly behind him, then settled it back into its perfection.

  "Angewomon…"  Myotismon gazed upwards, eyes fixed on the stars in the sky, gleaming like diamonds on a black velvet background.  "I want you so much… if only you other angels could understand.  But it seems I can never be understood.  I am an outcast to the entire digital world, and will be on Earth.  The humans know about me being a digimon.  I cannot travel back to Digiworld, for the viruses only see Ange, and the vaccines only see…"

  "…Myotismon," whispered Angewomon from the other side of an invisible barrier of data that separated the real and digital world.  "Why must the two of us be apart?"  She clasped her hands together as if in prayer and gazed upwards.  "An innate thirst and desire for the blood of others cannot be a technicality that can get between us.  Why must Angemon believe you are still evil?  Is it because of your blackened heart of your past vampiric life?  Is it the title given to you by no digimon in particular… the Undead King?  Was it because I was a slave to you in your castle to wait on you hand and foot as Gatomon?  If only Angemon could see…  I know you are good deep inside.  I see it in…"

  "Your eyes," continued Myotismon from his solitary cloud in the real world.  "Every day I loathed your eyes to a point where I had not wished to see them any longer.  Now…" he sighed, incredulous that he was actually stating this, "…I wish that I could see them once again.  So blue, so sexy, so appealing, so full of righteousness and joy…"

  Little did he know that the angel was thinking the exact same thought about HIS eyes.

  Angewomon sighed, gently sat down on her cloud, and stared at the stars scattered in the black sky, glittering like diamonds on a necklace.  Her eyes wandered over the heavenly lights, not marvelling at their inexplicable beauty but feeling rather bored.  She felt like a puzzle—one that did not have one of its edge pieces astray, but instead was missing a piece in its center, where it mattered.  For a strange reason, Myotismon's sudden banishment to the real world made her yearn for him even worse, and attached to every last memory about him was a burning desire to keep them in her mind and to see him again.

  Suddenly her blue eyes fixed their gaze on a shining light near the center.  It was much smaller than the others, as minute as a speck that would usually be unnoticed to the naked eye.  So miniscule it was not white or yellow at all, but closer to a black hue.

  "Why is it," she wondered to herself as she curled her long, slim legs closer to her body and wrapped her arms around them, "that the one star in the heavens above, so dark, so unnoticed, so… misunderstood?  (Why would a star be misunderstood?  Could it have been because it is not in any constellation in particular, so it doesn't seem like a decent part of the usual layout?  Or because it's so far away?  Why must I be talking to myself like this?  I do not make any sense at all.)  That one star is a dark archangel.  So much like the new Myotismon.  ANGE Myotismon."  She heaved a sigh, uncurled herself from her position, and gracefully stood up.  "I long for him."

  The angel was correct when she had mused about the lone dark star in the sky above: It might have seemed like no more than dark and pathetic at that point of view, but if the angle was different, the star could be seen as the brightest of all.

  Suddenly she heard the rustling of wings behind her, and a strong, firm hand laid gently on her shoulder.  With it came a warmth so great it was nearly uncomfortable.  "Is something the matter?" wondered the benign male voice from her left side.  "Angewomon, you seem quite moody, as if you're missing a large part of your life.  What is it?  Do you wish to return to Kari?  I hear that all of the other Chosen Children's digimon traveled to Earth for these holidays."

  "I wish it were that insignificant of a problem, Pyro Angemon," replied the angel maiden.

  Pyro Angemon, as his name suggested, had the element of fire.  His six wings were yellow with orange and red tips, all blazing in golden flames.  His helmet was gold with a red plume on top, concealing the top of his head and his eyes, revealing a perfectly chiseled nose and solemn mouth against a background of tanned skin.  Hanging down his back was a mane of hair as black as coal.  His overly robust physique was shown off by his shiny golden skintight suit that covered, but not completely concealed, everything from the neck down.  He wore a golden belt around his waist with a red cloth attached to it, which hung down to the ground.  Around his left leg was a red band, and connected to it was a long golden sword that could become white-hot and combust in the blink of an eye.  He wore lightweight crimson boots on his feet, and orange gloves.  He carried a staff that was a long golden rod with an eternally-burning flame encased in a crystal globe on top.

  The angel of the flame was considered a rebel among them, possibly because he had learned that hell's main element was fire.  Yet he was very gratuitous towards assisting his fellow angel in whatever means possible if they had a plausible reason to why he must obey them.  Not a competent worker, he had been expelled from the Grand Council for condemning one of their own angels to the digital world (he knew he was up to no good), where he became the infamous Devimon of File Island.  It was all for the best of the digital world, but no one knew what he had done was right.  If Pyro Angemon had not, Devimon would have conquered the digital world by deleting all vaccines, starting with the angels.  Still bitter about his sudden overthrowing after an approximate 400 years, he was willing to inflict revenge upon whoever had squealed on him.

  He had heard of the Myotismon scenario but was not able to attend the trial or even get a good look at this outcast.  But he knew than his more fair share about what was going on in Angewomon's mind and that she was in love.

  "You want him, do you not?" he questioned innocently.

  The angel maiden's face froze, her gasping in horror.  She did not know what to say to this— this— eavesdropper.  No wonder he had gotten ousted.  "Who are you talking about?" she lied.

  "One name will say it all," declared Pyro Angemon.  "I am talking about this dark archangel the Grand Council and other digital seraphs are gossiping and prating about.  The one who caused a great controversy—destroying the oceans?"

  "It was the digital flora, and it was a pure fluke!" snapped back Angewomon.

  "The one with the fangs?" he continued, unaware that the other angel was a combination of angry and afraid.  "You love him.  The legendary Vampire Lord of Server, transformed by an innocent prayer from that wuss Wizardmon?"

  "He is NOT a wuss!" shouted Angewomon, causing Pyro Angemon to draw himself back a few steps.  "Wizardmon is a sweet, gentle soul and it is not right of you to speak like that!  I loved him as a close friend!"

  "Aha, two mons in your life!" exclaimed Pyro Angemon.  "But I was not speaking about your Wizardmon; rather, it is the half-angel of AngeMyotismon."

  The angel grew fearful.  If the fiery diety dared to announce everything to the others, she would be forced to walk the digital world without her wings, forever an outcast like Myotismon had become.  "please don't tell," she requested.

  "No, I wish to help you," whispered Pyro Angemon, taking her hands in his.  "I know what it's like for you… but why would you be in love with the very one who made your life so miserable?"

  Suddenly memories flashed back, painful ones where she could still feel the scars on her back.  She had wings and a suit to conceal them, but for every one she received as Gatomon, it appeared on her body as a long, pink mark that was slightly raised as all scars were.  If one were to remove her bodysuit and raise her wings, they could see the pink— sometimes even deep red— agony from her past.  They criscrossed her alabaster skin in no particular pattern, but each one telling a story about how displeased her master was.  The worst all resulted from the EYES.

  One was an X-shaped red mark on her left hand that burned whenever it was thought of, irritated even worse by the tight gloves.  That, according to the angel, was the worst of all.  She knew how she had received it, and could not help but have horrible memories about it whenever she least expected it.

  I _do not belong here in this castle.  I know there is someone I am looking for, but I do not know who._  Gatomon was standing in the cavernous hall in Nightmare Castle, her paws gloveless and scarless.  _I thought I belonged here, but now I know this is pure evil and I don't seem like that type.  I am always pushed past my limit, sometimes over the edge.  Harassed by the other small digimon for being so mature and the larger ones for being so IMmature, abused by Master Myotismon… MASTER.  I feel like spitting at him every time I address him as "master."  This castle is hell, much worse than any Devimon's or Daemon's fortress.  It's so dark, so melancholy, with so much torture and death every time I turn the corner.  Fire… bats… darkness… screams of the dying… so many die in agony every day._

  The small cat knew she was independent, but how could she proclaim it with so much work to do?  All the deeds were evil…  _I refuse to do any more work until MASTER Myotismon finally understands who I am!  I am not like his stupid Bakemon, able to do ANYTHING at will.  Ghosts have no heart, just loyalty to a force of the undead greater than their own.  From this point forward, I will remain self-reliant, not taking an order from HIM._  She clenched her paws, feeling her thick black claws digging into the flesh.

  "Gatomon, why haven't you done what I told you to do?" the vampire asked her sternly, pacing back and forth in his study.  A disturbing silence surrounded both as he glared down at the poor white cat with his blue eyes.

  D_on't make eye contact… please don't make eye contact…_ thought Gatomon, her vision traveling upwards as if they were drawn to those icy blue eyes.  Suddenly she found herself staring into those sapphire ice crystals, and she shuddered as a shiver traveled up and down her spine.  It happened every time; she had attempted not to look directly into the vampire's eyes, but failed.  She kept her mouth clamped shut, refusing to speak.

  "I know you can talk, Gatomon," continued Myotismon.  His voice began to drip with sugar, a tone most digimon should have learned to watch out for, for he was trying to hide his rage.  "Why have you decided not to do as I say?"  Silence.  "ANSWER ME!"  The last line reverberated off of the walls of the study.

  Her feelings, which had been repressed for so long, bubbled up inside her and erupted in one outburst peppered with curse words.  She wished she had not said it afterwards.  "YOU!" she spat out.  Much of what she had screamed next was not implanted in her memory, only she had swore like she had never done in her life (most swears she had learned from Skullmeramon, who spewed profanity as well as steam and heat from every orifice and duct), and all she had remembered was the last few lines.  "YOU HAVE MADE MY LIFE A LIVING HELL!  I HAVE DONE EVERYTHING YOU WANTED AND YOU TREAT ME LIKE DIRT!  I DON'T BELONG HERE, WILL NOT WORK FOR YOU, AND REFUSE TO CONDESCEND TO THE LIKES OF YOU, YOU RUTHLESS, HEARTLESS, COLD-BLOODED DIGITAL SCUM!"  Gatomon caught her breath, both still mad and glad to get everything off her chest.  She stared directly at her adversary with her eyes: blue pools of hope and light.

  Myotismon, on the other hand, appeared enraged.  He attempted to suppress everything like Gatomon, but when his face became tinged pink with anger and a small vein popped up on his forehead.  Then his eyes seemed to fill with blue fire, and he bared his fangs in a menacing frown.  His right hand— his whipping hand— started to glow a neon red, which only meant one thing: Crimson Lightning.

  "Every damned time you look at me with those eyes," he growled through his pearly teeth, "I can see your rebellion that is so full of hope and light.  They will lead to incompetence, and I will not allow anything like that in my castle, especially from you!  CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  With that shout, Myotismon withdrew his whip of Crimson Lightning, lifted it, then cracked it as it flew towards Gatomon.

  She felt the burning agony brush against her back, singing the flesh and ripping it apart.  It felt white-hot, then surged with pain waves as blood gushed out of it and stained her fur in red streaks.  She dug her claws into the stone floor and dragged them towards her, leaving claw marks.  She glared at the vampire through her burning tears, and she saw the flash of crimson whack her across the backside again, drawing more blood with a surge of searing pain.

  The cat tried her best not to cry… it showed her fear.  She clenched her teeth and ground them together she was afraid they would become a fine powder by the time this torture ended as more whips left their permanent marks on her back, leaving six bleeding crevases in her hide.

  "Will you obey me now?" questioned Myotismon, not lowering his weapon.

  She wished to squeeze the words "Yes, master" out of her throat, but she couldn't.  Gatomon refused to lie.  It did not seem like the right thing for her to do, but she could not say no, either.  Gatomon remained mute, her larynx squeezing shut as it dried out and swelled, choking her up.  Tears stung her eyes, the eyes that resulted in her receiving the permanent blemishes.

  "Answer me, Gatomon," demanded the vampire.

  Still the cat refused to speak, undecisive of what to say.  Either way would result in some form of torment, either physical or mental.  Still, a scar could also become a badge of courage.

  "NEVER!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls.  She glared at Myotismon with her eyes, refusing to avert her eye contact to anything else.  An act of rebellion that would result in the most agonizing badge of courage to ever be received in her life.

  "You asked for it!" shouted Myotismon.  "CRIMSON… LIGHTNING!"  With one crack of the whip, it would have surged through Gatomon's chest, but she whipped out her paw to block the full blast that would have killed her.  With a second blast, her paw took the full attack, and it felt a burning heat and searing pain up her arm that was so terrible that she let out a scream that could be heard throughout the castle.

  Gatomon felt nauseous and felt as if she were about to die as she looked down at her equivalent of a hand and saw it covered in her own red blood, her fur stained scarlet and the liquid dripping down onto the stone floor in a puddle.  Salty tears streamed down her face as she let it all out… all her cries just erupting from her as she ran away the best she could.

  The paw had been wrapped tightly in a white cloth that had been tainted various shades of red as days and weeks passed.  She lost all use of it for over a month, impairing her abilities to do whatever work was necessary.  She had become a rebel amongst the other henchmen, and they seemed to respect her for that.

  Until the bandage was removed.  Gatomon's paw was not misshapen or mangled in any way, except for a cross-shaped scar that spanned the back, dark maroon and raised above the fur so it was visible.

  "Scar-paw!" the rookies taunted whenever she passed, after learning the news.  "Scar-paw!"

  The cat could not take it.  Once a hero, the scar seemed to be a badge of courage, but now it was just a deformity.  She found some green material in the corner of a dungeon cell, and made herself a pair of gloves that covered her paws, concealing the scar.

  Angewomon got second thoughts.  "He gave me the scar on my hand that will remain there for life no matter what…" she sighed.  "Still, Myotismon has a new life as an angel now, so I should give him a second chance.  All fallen angels deserve a second chance.  Especially if they are angel-turned.  Maybe their souls have been turned into angelic souls as well."

  "So you want me to assist you?" wondered Pyro Angemon.

  "Absolutely," replied the female angel.  "Please take me to the real world.  That is where he has been banished."

  "What will I tell Angemon?" wondered the fiery one.

  "I have a digi-destined.  I will simply visit her, making it true that that is the business I will attend to.  She will be thrilled to see me again, and I have not seen her in a very long time."

  "But—"

  "Gatomon by day with Kari, and Angewomon by night with my love."

  Pyro Angemon rubbed his chin, deeply in thought.  "Very nice plan, my angel queen," he complimented.  "may I wish you well on your journey.  And your secret is safe with me."

  The portal to the real world was within the walls of Nightmare Castle.  Once the dwelling of digital angels, Pyro Angemon knew everything about the card sequence, so he would accompany Angewomon to ensure that she would get through safely.

  The two angels flew through the tallest towre of the castle and traveled down several halls and flights of steps, going in the right direction according to Angewomon's knowledge of the castle.  Finally, they reached the room that held the portal.

  Pyro Angemon summoned the cards ,which floated down towards him.  He held all nine in his hand and placed them in their rightful positions on the grid.  The doors to the real world opened, letting a brilliant light through.

  "Good luck," he told her.

  Angewomon stepped forward, then set foot in the portal that she would possibly never return from.

  "Your secret is safe with me," added the angel of the flame, so softly only he could hear it.  He flew out the nearest window into the heavens.

  "Myotismon, my love," whispered Angewomon from the other side of the portal.  She had flown through the heavens above Tokyo and, without much luck, finally came upon the familiar figure standing on the cloud that now blanketed the sky above the city and showering white snow upon it.  "I am here for you."

  Myotismon slowly turned his head around and blushed as he saw his angel standing behind him.  "You came?  You shouldn't be seen with me!  I have been banished, and if you are seen with me you might lose your wings forever—"

  "I am willing to sacrifice anything for you," she admitted through a whisper.  "I love you, AngeMyotismon."

  She wrapped her arms around Myotismon in a loose but intimate caress, and he wrapped his pale, well-muscled arms around her as she spread her six white wings.  His wings stretched to their full span as they drew closer and closer towards each other.  Angewomon stroked the side of Myotismon's handsome face, feeling him… so smooth… so silky… so warm…  She stared into the half-angel's eyes, not seeing even the faintest glimmer of hatred within them.  He had never seemed so sexy before in his life.  But why?  Was it his blonde hair, seemingly spun from threads of pure gold, so beautiful as it shimmered in the moonlight and blew in the wind?  The wings that gave him his Ange- prefix that he refused to see as part of his name?  Him being no more than scantily clad in a skintight white suit that clung to his muscles?  His blue eyes, blue as precious sapphires and azure as the seas, no longer icy and sadistic, but now full of love?

  It was everything, she realized as she leaned inwards for a kiss.  Her lips met his, feeling the warmth and comfort against his body and all the orgasmic pleasure that streamed into her with every touch.  She wrapped her arms more tightly around Myotismon's well-muscled body as he embraced her.  A cool wind blew around them as all the snow that was falling onto the real world blew above the clouds in an updraft, spiraling around them as all the flakes sparkled as the light from the silvery moon reflected off of them.

  P_lease let this be more than a dream… please… I want this to last forever… _thought the true angel as she closed her eyes.

  Finally, after two minutes, their lips slowly parted, and the white snow ceased its spiraling, but fell through the surface of the cloud to the ground below, resuming its usual process of precipitation.

  The angel opened her eyes and breathed, then laid her head on the half-vampire's chest, feeling its warmth and breathing in such a sweet scent… had he always smelled this good and she hadn't noticed?  It smelled like roses and perfume… like a stronger, more masculine version of a spray she sometimes saw the digi-destined Mimi spray on herself.  What was it called again?  _Blush_?  He felt so firm… so loving… she loved AngeMyotismon.  Why hadn't this angel come into her life sooner than the night before?

  She loved ANGE Myotismon.  Why hadn't this ANGEL come into her life sooner than the NIGHT BEFORE?  But why not Myotismon, who had been in her life since she did not remember, for too many years to know?  He was not an angel.  AngeMyotismon was almost a true angel, if not for the fact about what he had been like in his past life.

  Myotismon had not known about this.  He still felt like his vampiric self inside, but he seemed to feel a strange feeling deep inside him when he kissed Angewomon.  Could it have been that his heart had changed along with his appearance, or had he loved Gatomon or Angewomon (no matter what form or what eyes she had) the entire time and couldn't express it?  Maybe she had never loved him at all, but now that he was an angel… he finally got a taste of love without the blood mixed in.

  Sadly, it had to end.  "I have to leave you," said Angewomon.  "I must remain with Kari during the day as Gatomon, but when night comes and everyone is asleep I will digivolve and come back to you."

  "In the darkness I'll wait for thee," replied Myotismon, holding the angel's hands in his, and giving one a soft kiss.  He liked it when he saw his love blush a deep pink.  "Farewell.  I will be disguised as a human after sunup, but when it goes down you will see me in my full radiance."

  Angewomon bowed, then flew off into the sky like a white comet, fantasizing about AngeMyotismon the entire time.

To be continued…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the next chapter, the Shadow Mode will begin executing his plans to take over the real world, angels become the talk of Odaiba, and Angemon gets suspicious around Pyro Angemon.  I hope to get the next one up soon!


	5. Angels Among Us

A/N:  The trip down south was fun.  I got a lot of fantastic ideas for this story while in Graceland and the Space and Rocket Center, and even did three kick-ass pictures of Myo and AngeMyo, which might be posted on my website when and if I get the time (and if the computer with the scanner works).  Sorry this took so long!  AngeMyotismon is not in here, but he will be in the next one!  ENJOY!

Chapter 5

Angels Among Us

  Wizardmon was a hero among Myotismon's henchmen.  The word of the transformation travelled through Nightmare Castle and spread like wildfire until the entire palace was abuzz with stories of the metamorphosis, each more unbelievable and sometimes more ridiculous than the last.  By the time the Shadow Mode arrived, Wizardmon was no longer a hero or a celebrity, but a legend.

  Until the morning that followed the banishment.  The wizard knew something was unbalanced within the fortress's walls, as if Myotismon had returned as himself again.

  I_t is light and darkness, I know it,_ thought the young sorcerer as he paced the vacant throne room, which was exactly the same as it had been when the vampire was still residing there.  _The air has grown brisk and desicated.  The lights are dimming at a minute yet alarming rate.  I feel a presence has invited itself in.  It can only be one single digital being, the feared one._

  His train of thought was interrupted by the echo of a booted footstep hitting stone.  Several more followed, seeming to grow closer with each step.  Finally, the door creaked open two inches, and the room grew so dim the candles lit faint lights by themselves.

  Wizardmon gasped, and his heart began pounding as the two doors flew open and banged against the wall.  A huge army of bats fluttered into the room, screeching like fingernails on chalkboard.  He knew that there was only one mon who the bats made way for.

  Myotismon Shadow Mode regally stepped into the throne room, his head held high and his posture perfectly straight.  Wizardmon felt a cold draft enter the room, and he shivered.

  "Wizardmon," he addressed the wizard in his cold voice.

  "Myotismon?…" wondered the champion digimon.

  "I am not, yet I am," replied the demonic half of the vampire, turning around to face his henchman.  "I am the Shadow Mode of Myotismon.  The darker and more evil side.  His prominent side.  The yang without the yin to hold it back.  Freedom… freedom to do exactly what I wish.  To obtain the coveted jewel that is the real world."

  As if he had an innate sense of abilities to locate, Demidevimon fluttered into the room and perched on top of the Shadow Mode's shoulder, feeling the leathery cloth beneath his claws.  "Master Myotismon!  I thought you were that angel!"

  "No longer," replied Myotismon Shadow Mode.  "I am the side you have feared, the side that will do exactly what the true Myotismon has aspired to accomplish for years: to plunge both principal worlds into eternal darkness, merge them both to form one, then become king of the new world.  The Vampire Lord of Server was never enough for him, and will never be enough for me."

  The imp was taken aback for about a second, and remained silent.  "What are you going to do, master?" he quietly asked.

  "The very first thing I will do is put every slave to the test, and filter out the best of the best.  Then I will go to Tokyo, making sure no angel dares stand in my way."

  "You're going to kill an angel?" asked Demidevimon.  "…Ingenious.  Very ingenious, sir.  Which one?"

  The Shadow Mode bared his fangs in a sinister grin.  "Whatever angel I can get my hands on."

  On the morning that followed the union of the two digital angels, Odaiba was blanketed in a soft layer of pure, untainted white snow.  Large flakes were still dropping to the ground from the gray sky above, and the children were eager to play outside in it.

  Kari was no exception.  In third grade at the time, she was still a small, vulnerable child.  She was disappointed that Agumon had paid her older brother Tai a visit for the holidays, but Gatomon hadn't done as much as even make an attempt to contact her.

  She was shaken awake by Tai, who was dressed in a dark blue sweater and long gray khaki pants due to the drop in temperature.  "Kari!" he exclaimed excitedly.  "It snowed last night!"

  The young digi-destined gasped, then leapt out of her futon to see that her brother was indeed telling the truth.  "Oh boy!" she shouted.  "I can't wait to play outside after school today!"

  Tai smiled.  "You'll have plenty of time to do it.  I think today's the last day of school before winter break.  Now get dressed and have breakfast.  We're having pancakes today.  Oh, and shake a leg.  We have a visitor."

  After her big brother closed the door to the small bedroom that he and Kari shared, the keeper of light stripped herself of her pink pajamas and dressed in a long pink sweater with purple capris.  She brushed her short mud-brown hair and donned her socks and shoes.  Then she ran to the kitchen, where the scent of pancakes hit her full force.  Her mother had finished cooking them and slid two plates of the steaming breakfast food on the table.  Tai was already shoveling his breakfast into his mouth, as he was in a hurry.  Kari decided to take her time, so she took the bottle of sweet, sticky maple syrup and smothered her pancakes with the liquid, then poured herself a glass of tangy orange juice.  Just as Kari was about to dig in, she saw a familiar silver object gleaming on the table.

  "My whistle!" she squealed, picking up her silver whistle pendant that she had given to Gatomon.  "Could this mean…"

  "She arrived last night," said Agumon, the very short, heavyset, orange, fire-breathing lizard digimon who resembled the Tyrannosaurus Rex.  "Tai wanted to tell you, but we wanted him to keep it a surprise."

  "Hi Kari!" shouted Gatomon from on the floor near the digi-destined's chair.

  "Is that your digimon, Kari?" questioned Tai's mother.  She was not afraid; she knew all about the digital creatures from the summer before.

  "Yes," replied the white cat.  "My name is Gatomon, and I am very pleased to meet you, Ms. Kamiya."

  Kari let out a squeal and picked her digimon off the floor, then hugged her so tightly Gatomon could barely breathe.  "I can't believe you came back!  I love you and missed you so much!"

  "me… too…" Gatomon mananged to squeeze out.  "I… need… to breathe!"

  "Sorry," apologized Kari.  She loosened her grip and set Gatomon down on the floor.  "But I can't believe you actually came back to the real world!  This is the best Christmas present ever!"

  "Christmas?"

  "Yes!  Take a look around!"

  So she did.  The living room of the apartment had holly strung on the wall with a large green wreath above the fireplace.  Hanging from the mantlepiece was a red stocking for each member of the Kamiya family.  In one corner was a green tree covered with various ornaments and brightly colored lights.  Underneath the tree, a few wrapped presents had been placed, seeming to beckon to their recipients to open them before December 25.

  "Pretty, isn't it?" continued Kari.  "My family's Christian, so we celebrate it.  My friends don't seem to do it, though.  But we do get a small vacation off anyway."

  "Come on Kari, shake a leg!" shouted Tai.  "School's about to start!"

  Kari swallowed the last bite of her breakfast and gathered her school materials.  She petted Gatomon for one last time, then exited with Tai, leaving Gatomon and Agumon at their lonesome when their mother would go to work.

  At Tai's school, the students were more hyped up than normal about the vacation, making it next to impossible for them to settle down.

  "Will you be quiet?" barked Ms. Kamishiro, Tai's sixth-grade homeroom teacher.  "You guys are impossible!  I'm trying to take attendance."  She moved her finger in front of her face, counting the occupied desks until she saw that only one was vacant.  "Hmmmmm… Rena seems to be absent today," she mumbled.

  Suddenly the door opened, and the girl who was thought to be absent stepped in and rushed past her classmates until she reached her desk in the back corner farthest to the left, as the homeroom teacher always arranged her students' seating alphabetically.  She resembled a cherub in a way, with her chubby figure and rosy cheeks.  Her black hair hung in her brown eyes and the rest of her fair-skinned face.  She was wearing a pink t-shirt with black sleeves, baggy blue jeans with holes in the knees, and brown loafers.

  "I'm very sorry," she apologized to her teacher in her soft, high voice.  "My dad's car broke down because of the unusually cold weather."

  "Yes, Miss Yuriko, I understand, but please do not be tardy again.  One more time and you get a detention."

  Several titters filled the room as Rena opened her math book and attempted to finish her pre-algebra.  She knew that she would be hit by one of those nasty spitballs before the day was over.  _Life sucks,_ she thought.  _Why did he have to leave me?  Why did I have to start school a year later than everyone else, and why am I the stupidest person in the world?  Everyone always calls me You-Reek-O, if not "fatty" or "lardo" or worse.  It doesn't help that my love is gone and will never come to whisk me away to where he lives… maybe there I will be respected the way I should be._  Her eyes burned with tears as she stared down at the sheet of paper on her desk.  It seemed like a jumble of kanji that became lines of varying lengths and angles on the paper as it blurred.  _Blonde hair… blue eyes… and he smelled so good too.  If only he could come back like in my dreams.  If only I could see him again._

  Her train of thought was abruptly ended by a soggy spitball, consisting of a crumpled-up piece of paper saturated by saliva, hitting her square in the back of her neck.  She took it off and let it drop to the floor, her cheeks and ears tinged pink, trying to return to her homework.

  The day was otherwise uneventful, with one exception: lunch break.  Usually the middle-school students ate their lunches in their small cliques, only conversing amongst themselves.  Tai and the other older digi-destined were sitting at their usual table, eating whatever food they had brought, occasionally starting small traces of a conversation.

  All of a sudden, the doors opened, and a pubescent male voice shouted, "Everyone!  Look at this!"

  "Oh God," muttered Mimi.  "It's Chip."

  Charles Tajiri, better known as Chip, was a nerd.  His greasy black hair, Coke-bottle glasses, pocket protector, high-water pants and candid interest in computers and mathematics proved so.  He, like his fellow outcasts, spent the lunch hour in the computer room, attempting to substantiate the existence of extraterrestrials, creating a program that would shelter their modems from whatever hackers were out there, or solving complex problems in their Algebra II math books.  Though he was old enough to be in sixth grade, he had been promoted to seventh grade.

  Chip skipped over to the long cafeteria table where the digi-destined were seated, and plunked a small, flat object onto its surface, his large hand concealing what picture was on it.  He was so roused by what he had to say that he didn't care when the children of the higher social ranks edged themselves and their food away from him as if he were a leper.

  "You said that it was impossible for aliens to exist," he announced, "but I have found something even better!  Angels!  Angels exist, and they're flying around over Tokyo right now!"

  The digi-destined ignored him, pretending to be absorbed in their sandwiches and sushi, as if there was something perticularly fascinating about seaweed wrapped around raw fish.

  The nerd ignored the silent treatment; rather, he felt they were encouraging him through their silence.  "I can prove it, because what I hold underneath my hand is untouched, unedited, unaltered photo footage of this vision.  It's not even digital!  You see, last night I was mapping an uncharted region of the sky for signs of alien life when suddenly I saw something shocking."

  "What was it?" questioned Matt sarcastically.  "Let me guess.  Santa Clause and Elvis Presley riding on the back of the Easter bunny, then all three get abducted by those aliens you constantly talk about."

  "I wish!" spouted Chip, who was obviously on a roll.  "it was even more unbelievable than that, Matt.  For what I saw was…" he raised his voice to a louder volume.  "…these angels!"  He whisked his hand away, leaving the picture face-up on the lunch table.  "And they were standing on a cloud, bodies pressed together, sucking the lips off of each others' faces!  At first I thought there was something wrong with the lens of the telescope, but when I wiped it off thoroughly, they were still there!  So I grabbed my camera, zoomed it in as far in as I could, then took as many pictures as the film would allow.  This morning I rushed to the one-hour photo, and here is the best footage!"

  The digi-destined, and others who were sitting at the long table, crowded in and peered at the color photograph with their inquisitive eyes.  To everyone's surprise, they saw the image.  Though blurry, it was recognizable as two white-clad bodies pressed together against a dark blue background.  Both had long manes of blonde hair that cascaded down their backs and six white features that could have been wings.

  "So, it could still be bull crap," altercated Matt.  "They could be people in costume, the wings could be added digitally…"

  "Yeah," agreed Izzy.  "Any photograph can be edited so it looks like those are—"

  "I have the negatives to prove it!" interrupted Chip, digging in a pocket of his trousers and pulling out the negatives.  "The angels exist!  Everyone get a look at these heavenly beings!"

  A crowd that consisted of most of the cafeteria had gathered around the table, each person shoving their way through the rest to get a good look, each mind full of questions, mainly the same ones, like "Are they both female, or is one a guy with long hair?" or "If they are people in costume, how much did the costumes cost?" or "When did you see them?"  However, the question asked en masse was, "Are you sure those are angels?"

  Rena Yuriko had also made her way through, but only to see what the cafeteria of Odaiba Middle School was abuzz about.  "Hey, what is everyone looking at?" she questioned.

  "None of your business, Fatty You-Reek-O!" retorted one of her peers.

  Before Rena could retaliate, the nerd made an announcement.

  "Everyone!" he shouted.  "With angels among us, but with so many skeptical minds, I will be personally proving to everyone around the world that there are angels!  Tonight, bring a telescope to the top of Odaiba Towers—if you have one—and turn it to the position I tell you to, and I will show you once and for all!  Be there or be square!"

  "in your case, you don't have to not be there to be square," mouthed off one of the eighth-graders.  Giggles filled the vicinity around him, and the crowd dissipated into the hallway, where Chip would show them the picture.

  "Angels… angels…" muttered Tai.  "What if one of those was Angewomon?"

  "Most definitely," replied Joe, rubbing his chin.  "But I can't tell who that other one is.  He's not Angemon, that's for sure.  But he looked very familiar."

  Sora looked at her companions mindfully.  "If there is an angel-hunt, then they might capture her!"

  "Sora, this is Chip Tajiri we're talking about," Tai pointed out.  "Nobody's going to believe him."

  In the digital world, in the heavenly kingdom that was the sanctuary of the angels, Pyro Angemon attempted to act as if he were not hiding anything, but his attempts were weak.

  "Pyro Angemon," Angemon addressed him from behind that afternoon.  The sun was low in the sky, bathing the sky in a cheerful goldenrod tint.  However, this angel did not sound too pleasant in the way he spoke.

  The fiery seraph froze in place.  He refused to speak or move a muscle for fear that his original-angel counterpart would consider that yet another suspicious act.

  "Pyro Angemon," the angel repeated, louder and more reproving.  "I addressed you by name.  You must answer me."

  Pyro Angemon sighed, then slowly pivoted around.  He brushed a few strands of his tousled black mane behind his back, then looked at Angemon's feet.  There was no way in hell—or in this case, digital Heaven—that he would look at this being in the eye.  "Yes, Angemon?" he asked, letting his eyes wander over the gold cross on the digital angel's white boots.

  "I have a question about the strange occurrences in this domain," stated Angemon.  "Knowing your personality as the anarchist of this Council of Digital Angels, I immediately linked this crisis to you."

  The angel of the flame grew pallid.  _How did he know? _ 

  "Angewomon is missing.  You see, she disappeared without a trace last night, and none of the others I have asked know where she went.  I have reached the bottom of the barrel, as they say.  Your action back in the digital year 7760 was a disgrace, despite an act of precaution.  You have always wished revenge for those who give you a difficult time.  I ask you, has she taunted you in some way?"

  "NEVER!" snapped Pyro Angemon.  "She would never do that!"

  "Do you have any sort of clue about where she has gone?"

  "NO!" retorted Pyro Angemon.  Before he could escape, Angemon grabbed him around the wrist with one hand and removed his helmet with the other.  The fire angel's eyes squeezed shut as the other angel read his thoughts.

  "so you DO know where she is!" deduced Angemon.  "You low liar!"

  "And you arrogant pompous bufoon, trying to suck up to the Guardians because you want a chunk of the digital world to rule over!" quipped Pyro Angemon.  "Here are more thoughts you won't be reading!"  He donned his helmet and aimed his staff at Angemon.  "INFERNO TORNADO!"

  A funnel-shaped flame blazed out from the crystal globe and headed straight for the angel, who zoomed out of the way lest his wings ignite and turn to ash in a matter of seconds.  It burned out in less than a millisecond after missing its principal target.

  Angemon, hovering in the air, assured in his most patient voice, "Please, Pyro, do not make this more difficult than it already is!  Tell me where my lady is and I will not get mad at you!  I promise with my heart and soul!"

  However, the fiery angel refused to believe him.  "I will never tell you!  I promised her."

  "Pyro, you will tell me or face the consequences of permanent banishment from the digital Heaven!" demanded Angemon, his face tinged pink and growing more impatient by the moment.  His angel rod began to glow white as if to tell the other angel, "I mean business."

  Pyro Angemon hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth.  Losing the title of an angel was an enormous deal, but he would not surrender to who overthrowed him from the Grand Council and actually administered the punishments.  Angemon was willing to do whatever he could to rid his domain of this blemish.  However, he was obliged to do whatever he could to help Angewomon and even Myotismon— surprisingly, a figure he liked to follow in the footsteps of and could not stand to see killed, for he knew that he was a fallen angel in some way and inevitably would become one of them after time went on— and if he betrayed them, who would be the one to allow these outcasts to live?  Myotismon was ANGE Myotismon, therefore making him an angel.  If Pyro kept his mouth shut as he usually did, he would be betraying Angemon, a high-ranking deity and a figure of authority.  However, if he told Angemon where Angewomon was— and even worse, saying she was with Myotismon— he would be betraying TWO of his kind.  The conflict in his mind had to be resolved in less than two seconds.

  But, knowing that he wanted what was best for the angel maiden, he quickly shut his mouth and glared at Angemon.

  "So you have made your foolish decision not to tell me,"  asserted Angemon.  He pointed his rod at Pyro, who froze in place, unable to make a single movement.  "Pyro Angemon, with the power of Seraphimon and the Grand Council, I hereby deprive you of your title of—"

  All of a sudden, the sky took on a blood-red tint, and the clouds turned from white to a menacing grayish-black, with lightning sparking out of various places.  Thunder began booming from below, vibrating the clouds.  A gale blew through the area at a continuous rate, bringing with it the stench of evil and a below-freezing wind chill.

  A deep, powerful voice began to laugh darkly as the sky's tint deepened to a pure black, without a trace of sunlight.  However, the digimon could still see due to Pyro Angemon's fire brightening the area and their uncanny sense of sight.  Hundreds of bats squeaked as they flew above the clouds and circled around the two angels like vultures surrounding their prey.

  Then a tall, lanky figure rose above the surface of the clouds, still laughing.  "Good evening to you angels!" he greeted the two.  "Angemon, do you not remember me?"  He grinned, revealing his unmistakable fangs.

  "Myotismon," growled Angemon.  "How the devil did you return after your banishment?"

  The Shadow Mode chuckled.  "Ah, but I've always been in this world.  As his Shadow Mode, his dominant side, the true Myotismon but not truly him, I am here to dominate both worlds without an angel here to stop me."

  "See if we can't!" shouted the angel, seeing his main priority was to hold evil off before it made it to Earth.  "HAND OF FATE!"

  Myotismon Shadow Mode leapt into the air and dodged the dazzling white beam of the hand.  "Is that the best you can do?" he questioned in a mocking sort of manner.  "RAGING NIGHTMARE!"

  All the bats flew up into an army-like formation and flew straight at the two angels, squealing and nipping at their suits and bare flesh.  Angemon took his Angel Rod and attempted to swat at whatever bats dared bite him.  The ones that were foolish enough to get that close immediately dissolved after the glowing rod came into contact with them.  Pyro Angemon unleashed his Inferno Tornado at the flying rodents, which destroyed every last one.

  Myotismon Shadow Mode glared at his new angel adversary.  "I have a special gift for you," he declared.

  "I was about to give you the same thing!" shouted the fiery angel.  "HEAVEN'S FLAME!"  He changed into pure white fire with six blue-hot wings and darted right at the vampire like a comet, him zooming out of the way just as speedily.  Three attempts failed.

  "LETHAL DARKNESS!" shouted Myotismon Shadow Mode, letting loose a dusk so dark it sucked light out of the air surrounding it.  It surrounded Pyro Angemon and seemed to drain him of his power.  He felt the darkness against his skin… so cold and tingly but in a bad way, as if pins were being pushed into his skin everywhere and filling his veins with ice.  He felt his power being drained as his breath shortened and collapsed onto the surface of the clouds.

  Finally Angemon managed to destroy the final bat.  "HAND OF FATE!"

  "MEGA CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  The Shadow Mode whipped out a larger, more potent version of his Crimson Lightning and forced the beam of the Hand of Fate to reflect right onto Angemon, knocking him to the surface of the cloud.

  "Pyro… someone… please help," gasped the angel, extending a hand.  He could feel nothing in his skin, yet his muscles ached as he moved.  As the feeling returned, surges of tingles filled everywhere, causing him to fall limp onto the surface, writhing and pleading for the agony to cease.

  As Pyro Angemon struggled to stand up, the darkness lifted.  He managed to get onto his hands and knees when he saw Myotismon Shadow Mode standing in front of him, brandishing his whip of Mega Crimson Lightning.

  "Finally… an angel dies," he said before letting the whip fly.  It cracked in the air before striking Pyro Angemon right through his back and exiting through his chest, frying him internally with the worst pain imaginable.  The fiery angel let out a final scream, tears escaping his eyes and sweating heavily, before he collapsed onto the cloud and rolled onto his back.  It was then when he saw his feet were halfway gone, with small square-shaped pieces of data escaping.  "I will come back for the rest of you!  MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  He flew away to where the portal was located, his bats following closely behind.

  As the sky lightened to its natural color, Angemon felt the remainder of the ache escape his body.  He stood up and rushed over to Pyro Angemon, forgetting about snatching away the title.  "Pyro, are you feeling…"  That was when he saw the dissolving.

  Pyro Angemon was a sight to be seen.  He was completely limp, his roughed-up face fixated with an expression of pain and agony.  His breaths were short, much like gasping.  His face was drenched with salty tears and perspiration, and small rivers of blood trickled from a red, raw exit wound on his right breast.  His legs were in the process of their decaying.

  "Pyro… I'm sorry," apologized Angemon.  "I let anger get the best of me… I'm VERY sorry…"  He began to force back the tears that seemed to fill his eyes until they couldn't help but leak salty tears of compassion that dripped onto the wound but didn't do a thing to heal it.

  "I'm… dying…" gasped Pyro Angemon.  "…you… win, Ange…mon."

  "Win?" questioned Angemon.  "I only wanted what was best for Angewomon… I thought she needed me wherever she is now…"  He took his fellow angel's hands in his and looked up at the sky.  "And now I'll never find her…"  He felt his hands close around nothing.

  All that was left of the flaming angel was his chest up.  His face was pale white and clammy, like a corpse's.  Angemon might have had a vendetta against him, but Pyro Angemon could still repent and help him despite everything he had done.  He had not had three strikes, but he was about to get out permanently.

  Finally, after a moment of pure silence, there came Pyro Angemon's final word before he completely dissolved and died.  It was what would help Angemon, in case Angewomon was in danger and Ange Myotismon was not able to save her.  One single word escaped his dying lips:

  "Earth." 

To be continued…


	6. The Search

A/N: And we have passed the halfway point!  There is an intense romantic scene, but no sex so don't worry.  We also meet another antagonist who, though less of one than the Shadow Mode, is still quite evil.  Here are the responses to your reviews of the last chapter because I'm a good girl:

To vandegatomoncat: Let's see… I think it was after we went to Subway and I went to some place to get a DVD… maybe they put something in my sub that gave me inspiration ^^

To blackmage718: Here is more… and there's more to come!

To MegaScythe: … at least you apologized for it.  And I'm glad you think AngeMyo is cool too!

So enjoy, and please review!  (I just realized like writing these responses! ^^)

Chapter 6

The Search

  Gatomon was completely unaware of the angel photo fiasco, but Kari felt an urge to ask her digimon partner if she was with an angel, and if she knew that Chip Tajiri had gotten a picture of her.

  The white cat, anticipating the next moment when she would see Myotismon, asked for Kari to leave the window open slightly so she could get some fresh air.  With the evening being slightly warmer than it had been that week, it was an offer the keeper of light could not refuse.  She awaited the moment of escape anxiously, her tail twitching and eyes darting to various points around the room.

  Finally, Tai and Agumon entered the room and fell asleep right away.  Kari flicked on a small lamp, took out a book, and began to read.  Gatomon did not snuggle next to her under the covers, where it was warm and fuzzy, but rather curled up at the foot, appearing to be dozing but actually holding her eyes halfway open, her stomach filled with fluttering butterflies.

  Then Kari yawned, stretched, put the book on her nightstand, and turned off the light.  "Good night, Gatomon," said a voice from out of the darkness.

  The cat waited.  The glowing red numbers on the digital clock read 9:30, and by what she remembered it took Kari about fifteen minutes to completely enter dreamland.  For Tai, she knew he was asleep when he began to snore at 9:32.  The numbers changed slowly, and time passed like flowing molasses.  It was pure torture for her, being overwhelmed with desire for Myotismon— or ANGE Myotismon, to be more precise— and then being deprived of him.

  Finally, at 9:42, she slipped out of her statue-like position, and climbed onto Kari's desk, cautious not to rattle any pencils or knock anything over.  She saw her portal—the window outside.  Its white curtains were blowing in the chilly gusts, almost like angels' wings or robes.  Gatomon breathed in, then slipped through the crack that was just large enough for her to fit through.  She jumped off the concrete windowsill outside, then glowed pink.

  "Gatomon, digivolve to… ANGEWOMON!"

  The angel had replaced the cat, emitting a pink glow that followed her as she flew through the air, giving the illusion of a pink comet.  She spread her white wings like a bird, then flew upwards towards her ultimate destination.

  She whipped her head around, straining her sight for what even looked remotely like her dark angel.  Finally, she saw him standing on a cloud like a statue, his wings hanging down his back like his cape, clutching his moon staff as if he must protect it like a crown jewel, his golden hair blowing away from his face in the gentle breeze above the clouds.

  Angewomon landed gently onto the surface, her feet feeling the cool softness of the cloud and her heart skipping a beat, seeing that Myotismon was just as handsome as ever in the moonlight.  "AngeMyotismon… how I ever missed you…" she told him, slipping into his arms and laying her head against his chest.  How smooth, how firm… he smelled so good she desired to breathe in to get his scent.  He was also so… so warm.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and clasped them together on the other side.

  "I have also missed you," replied Myotismon, running one of his hands through the angel maiden's soft blonde hair and stroking her back like a cat.  He had never had any affection like this shown towards him, and he had never given any form of affection towards any female digimon before.  Why?  Had his blackened heart blocked out whatever silly redundant emotions got in his way of world domination, or had he always had a soft spot for female humanoid digimon his entire existence but never able to express it in the right way?

  Angewomon blushed, her cheeks turning a deep pink that was nearly red.  She had never felt this kind of love before, and she let her love get the best of her.  She took Myotismon's hand in hers, and slowly let herself fall onto the surface of the cloud, taking Myotismon with her.  She fell forward, landing right on the vampiric angel and wrapping her arms around him, laying her head on the curve of his neck, smelling him and letting out a small moan of pleasure.

  "This reminds me of something…" she reminisced, pulling herself away and sliding onto one side of him, blushing with pleasure when he wrapped a thin but muscular arm around her.  "I have felt this way before… I know it!  When I was with… you."

  Myotismon remembered all.  He knew that once he had taken pity on Gatomon after she got injured on a mission, by giving her a night with him, where he stripped down to his waist and actually came very close to making love to her.  For some reason, he got jealous of Wizardmon and eventually turned it into a hatred for him that could never be extinguished.  He made a desperate attempt to get Gatomon back with him, by coming ever so close to removing his mask— the very mask no one had ever seen him without.  Not even Demidevimon or his bats had seen him without the red cover on his upper face, only showing his blue eyes.  They never knew the well-guarded secret to why he wore it.  Only he did.

  "You never showed me what was under your mask," whispered Angewomon, stroking the side of his face.  "Why don't you show me now?"

  "The mask?" asked Myotismon, suddenly drawing away.  "I will not show you anything," he declared, defensive of his past.  "Not until we truly love each other."

  Angewomon looked disappointed.  "When will that be?" she wondered.  "How long will that take?"

  "When you love me enough, you will remove your helmet."

  "But the helmet is forbidden to being removed, and not even I am permitted to do so!  Only an angel whose rank is higher than mine is permitted to see my face underneath!  But… you are Ange Myotismon, my first true love ever.  I will take off this silver abomination when you perform three truly angelic acts, proving you to be courageous and just, truly caring about others enough to want to act that way."

  "I care for you," said Myotismon.  "You are the first digimon in my life who has truly loved me.  And for you… a night you have dreamed of!"  He let Angewomon fall onto him, and the two locked their lips in a passionate kiss.

  Meanwhile, Chip Tajiri had gathered the believers of Tokyo, including one news team complete with heavy cameras, microphones, and a reporter, in the middle of the park.  He was standing in the center, next to the grey cement fountain that spurted small streams of water in the warmer months of the year, but was now turned off lest the water freeze.  Next to him was an elongated silver telescope perched on a tripod, its eye pointed at the heavens.  Surrounding Chip was a mob of about three hundred people, most of which were middle-school students and the incredibly gullible adults, and several held binoculars and telescopes.  All of them were shivering violently beneath their coats as their breath escaped in small white clouds, huddled together in clumps.

  "When will they show up?" questioned an impatient member of the crowd.  "I'm freezing my butt off!"

  "Patience, patience," assured Chip as he cleaned his fogged-up glasses with his mittens.  He put them back on, where they slid down his nose, which was red from the cold.  Then, out of curiosity, he peered into his telescope, then slowly panned it around at different angles until he saw the figures on a cloud, seeming to be making out.  "Bingo!" he whispered, zooming in.  And there was, as clear as day, the angelic duo.

  "EVERYONE!" Chip announced, spreading his arms as he faced the crowd.  "Point your telescopes to the east, at 46 degrees, and you will find the angels!"  He paused, seeing no one seemed to believe him.  He knew there was one thing he had to say, one two-word phrase that automatically made at least half the people in the area to listen.  Then he whispered loudly enough for the crowd to hear, "They're having sex!"

  That got people looking through their telescopes, furiously setting their telescopes to the correct position.  Gasps and sounds of awe escaped the mouths as they viewed Angewomon and Myotismon, engaged in activity that might have not been sexual, but very romantic.  The news reporters shoved their way past to peer through the telescope, and they as well saw what they were looking for, so the cameramen zoomed in the cameras as closely as possible.

  Of course, the live broadcast got news viewers to tell their friends to tune in to that station, not to mention the witnesses dialing their friends and saying, "Channel 7 News!  FAST!",  and even see the angels for themselves, which got other news stations to announce the news of angel sightings as "this just in" messages.  The vicinity of Tokyo knew, and everyone called and emailed everyone they knew with an announcement that they had seen two angels above their city.  Friends told friends, and it was only a mere few minutes before entire cities knew.  The news of the angel sightings spread like wildfire, at first local news, then regional news, then national news, and finally world news by the next morning.

  "Oh Myotismon… I never knew your kisses were so sweet," Angewomon complimented, drawing away.  "This night was as beautiful as you, but I'm afraid I must go…"

  "I await your next coming," replied Myotismon.  "Until then, I will be incognito to the rest of the world.  Adieu, my love."  He kissed Angewomon's hand, and the maiden took off into flight, her destination the Kamiya apartment.

  All this was viewed by all of Tokyo and its metropolitan area.

  The next morning, Kari carried Gatomon in her arms to the kitchen, where Mrs. Kamiya was puttering around the kitchen, trying to put together a good breakfast, and Mr. Kamiya was reading the newspaper.  In the front, the huge, black, bold headline **ANGELS SIGHTED IN TOKYO!** blared on a third of the page, another third of the page were two blown-up cover photos.  One was the first photo taken of the angels, the one from the cafeteria; the other was Chip's school picture.  The rest was filled with text regarding the front-page headline.

  The small television in the kitchen was also turned on, and that was what had awoken the cat from her half-slumber.

  "…our top story today is considered to be among the most interesting headlines.  The Christian holiday Christmas is coming soon, which means a tree, wreaths, ornaments, candy canes, snow, bells, and of course, angels.  It seems that people are getting into holiday spirit, because they saw two angels above Tokyo last night at about 9:45, engaged in deep romantic activity."

  Gatomon quickly opened her eyes and felt provoked to scream.  _I can't believe this!  Someone discovered us!  How could I have been this stupid, this ignorant?_  She burned underneath her fur coat, which concealed everything, as she saw a picture of her with Myotismon on the screen.

  "These angels," the reporter contined, looking at the cue screen, "were first sighted by eleven-year old Charles Tajiri of the Odaiba district on Friday and photographed that night.  By last night, everyone wanted to get a good look at these two before they both flew away and unable to be seen.  No one knows if these angels are a godsend or a hoax, but everyone wants them, including this American billionaire from Los Angeles in the United States."

  The screen's image switched from the news reporter in the studio to a conference room in Los Angeles, where all cameras are focused on a man, who announced, "These angels are truly for real, and if I am able to obtain one of them and study them up close, our world will be able to know the truth about all the questions Christianity has offered its followers.  For whoever is watching this broadcast, there will be a hunt for these rare beings, a reward offered for them both.  I am willing to offer $7 million American for the female angel, and $10 million for the male."

  Gatomon gasped, a lump forming in her throat.  If any human got their hands on her or Myotismon, they could get killed by a strange human whose ambition was to capture them for research purposes.  Angels were all about mystery, subtlety, and well-guarded secrets.  She made a mental note to stay inside, no matter what the circumstances.  Luckily for her, Kari was too busy getting her breakfast—eggs and toast—to notice the broadcast.

  However, Gatomon was not able to admonish Myotismon.  She thought he knew already… but he had no clue as to what had occurred.

  The man who had offered the immense rewards was extremely wealthy.  Everyone who knew of this man were informed that he was rich because he was an entrepeneur as well as an expert in the stock market and owning successful business.  But in reality, his enormous wealth came from CRIME.  He was the leader of all the organized and unorganized crime in Los Angeles, with several men trained to commit whatever theft was needed to keep him rich.  If they were thrown in jail, he helped them escape with the money that he had acquired from several things like ransom.  He was an evil man indeed, but a very unsuspected one.

  This man was around thirty-five years old, with fair skin covering a husky figure from years of fine dining.  His eyes, with thick black eyebrows like caterpillars above them, were deep-set and dark brown, and not tired-looking at all.  The rest of his face was once very handsome, but one could tell it was slowly going to seed like all faces do as they age.  His hair was black and slicked back so it looked greasy, still covering the top and not even slightly balding.  He always dressed in neatly-pressed, crisp suits with matching ties and shiny shoes.  His name was Robert Rosseau, but he was always addressed by his surname.

  Rosseau lived in a very large mansion in the wealthy region of Los Angeles, white and complete with large windows, pillars, turrets, and spacious indoor rooms taking up three floors.  The estate was complete with two swimming pools, a tennis court, and a menagerie.  The menagerie was Rosseau's pride and joy, a private zoo filled with unusual, rare, and colorful creatures, many of which had been poached from the wild, but placed on a magnificent reserve that stayed pleasant all year round, with feeding and all essentials except for the makings of a true habitat.  All of the sections were filled except for the largest, which was hidden by red velvet curtains.  Rosseau had been saving that for the best and rarest life of all.

  As the affluent man settled down in his easy chair in his study (filled with books about money and crime, with one or two works of American literature hidden amongst them in the shelves, collecting dust and cobwebs), his butler brought him a cup of tea and asked, "Sir, what are you planning to do with the angels?"

  Rosseau thoughtfully sipped his drink and replied, "James, do you recall that area of the menagerie that I have been reserving for the greatest animals?  I am planning to hold the angels captive in there, where I will charge admission for people to see them up close.  I will become a richer man than ever, possibly the greatest in the world."

  "What will happen when the angels are no longer of use?"

  "They will die, then.  James, get the jet for a flight to Tokyo, and bring with me our finest men.  Desperate times call for desperate measures."

  As Rosseau's private jet took off that day, Myotismon had taken the liberty of donning a long trenchcoat that concealed his body and wings, as well as a hat that managed to shadow his face.  He walked the streets for hours, attempting to act like part of the crowd, including shivering when snow fell from the sky and stopping to gaze into store windows.

  "So many angels…" he whispered, seeing the window display that had been erected that morning in a sculpture store.  Since the news of angel sightings began, all shops seemed to use angels as their advertising gimmick.  In that sculpture store's case, ribbed white draperies hung down from above the window and covered the walls and ground of the display, which was a marble statue of an angel mounted on a marble stand.  The angel looked nothing like a digital one; it had long, wavy hair and had a halo and two wings, a long, loose robe flowing over its body down to its feet.  Its head was turned upwards and hands were extended towards the heavens as if in prayer.  "All have looked the same to me.  Two wings… a halo in place of a helmet… skin with color in it… a loose robe that conceals its body… all unlike me."  He saw himself in his mind, with his six bat wings, crimson mask, and scanty white bodysuit.  He knew he was also too pale, too skinny, and too tall to fit in with these rosy, plump angels as portrayed in paintings.  Even Angewomon had some true color in her skin, with blush-pink lips and rosy cheeks.  "None of them look like me… what an outcast I am…"

  The snow began to fall in large white clumps, and the half-angel looked at his feet in despair.  He looked down the street and saw a building at the end that appeared miniscule in comparison to the monstrous skyscrapers that stretched to great heights around it.  It had two wooden doors that were cracked open in front, a stone statue placed on each side of it.  On the other sides were stained-glass windows.  There was a slanted, shingled roof on top, and at the front there was an extension to the body that towered up as a steeple, which had a hole in it that held two large golden bells, now still.  Perched on top of the steeple was a small golden cross.

  Somehow Myotismon found himself to be drawn to the place, slowly nearing it with each step.

  At that exact time, two sinister crafts entered the vicinity of Tokyo.  One subtly, the other making a grand entrance.  Both of which were a threat to Myotismon in at least one way, but he only knew of one of them.

  He reached the stone steps that led to the doors of the diminuitive church.  Without a word, he pushed them forward and entered its main hall, where the masses were held.  The ceilings were covered with a large painting of angels flying through a golden sky with fluffy peach-colored clouds, the seraphs looking exactly the way the sculptures and other displays depicted them.  The floors were stone and lined with wooden pews on the sides, with a narrow aisle in between.  The white walls on the sides were taken up by stained-glass windows depicting biblical scenes and fifteen dark brown plaques with scenes with each station of the cross shown on them.  At the front, the walls were draped in violet cloth.  There was a platform, and on it was a podium covered with identical cloth.  Two chairs stood in the back, and an altar with a white cloth on top was placed in front of it.  Behind the platform and in front of the wall there was a large wooden cross lined in gold.  The silence within could not be broken.

  The disguised angel wandered down the aisle and sat in the wooden pew near the center.  He slowly sat down and stared at the elaborately-painted portrayal of angels above him.  He grew more saddened as he realized how much of a freak of nature he truly was.

  He let his eyes fall downward until he saw an open book on the pew, its pages marked by a long pink ribbon.  A line of text caught his eye: "May the angels lead you into paradise."

  L_eading them into paradise.  I feel that it is my duty to do so… to be led into my own true paradise with Angewomon at my side.  I have feelings for her that I have never experienced before.  She is beautiful both physically and emotionally, but she is a true angel.  I do not know if we can ever be together._

  He stared at the painting again, alone with his thoughts for hours.  By the time he decided that it was time to take his leave, he exited the church to see that the snow had ceased and the orange sky was mottled with gray clouds.  The sidewalks were more congested with passerby, so Myotismon knew it would be difficult to escape.

  He spent several minutes searching for a niche where he would be shrouded, such as behind a wall, to transform into himself in security.  If he were seen, he could not set foot on Earth.

  That was when the sirens went off and the commotion officially started.

  Rosseau was alone in his hotel suite on the top floor of the most extravagant hotel in downtown Tokyo that night— his men had been forced to stay on a lower floor in a much smaller room and to steal several artifacts from Tokyo for him— and he was already settled in his bed in red silk nightclothes, about to fall asleep.

  The room grew unusually brisk, so he curled up more tightly in his bed covers, shivering.  There seemed to be some sort of sinister presence in the room.  The billionaire peered over the edge of his bed and saw a silhouette of a person standing next to his bed, surrounded by a dense gray fog and what appeared to be bats— they squeaked like bats and had wings in that shape.

  "Is someone there?" whispered Rosseau, sounding terrified and breaking into a sweat.

  "Yes," replied a deep voice from where the humanoid shadow was standing.  "And I am here for you.  I know exactly what you desire, and I am here to assist you in acquiring it."

  "How do you know?" questioned Rosseau.

  "I know who you are, Robert Rosseau.  Your motive is to capture the angels and become the wealthiest man in your pathetic little world, and I can help you reach that desired goal, with a little gratuity as well.  I wish to be the unquestioned king of two worlds, including your own."

  Rosseau blinked and could see the outline of the stranger's face.  "How will you do that?"

  "I," said the Shadow Mode, "am willing to offer you a little bargain.  You will be my servant.  If you capture those two angels, I am unstoppable because my opponents have always been the holy type, therefore I will be the one who dominates two worlds without any angels in my way to hold me behind.  What is in it for you, you ask?  You will be the leader of a portion of the digital world as well as the wealthiest man in the real world."

  The rich man's eyes grew wide, as the deal sounded appealing to him, especially the promise that he would be the most prolific human in the history of the world.  "You have yourself a deal," he acceded.

  A roll of parchment appeared in front of Rosseau in the bed, along with a feather dipped in ink.

  "Then sign the contract, willing yourself to be a servant to me for life," instructed Myotismon Shadow Mode, not concealing his elation.

  Without a second thought about considering it to be like selling your soul to the devil— the Shadow Mode akin to the devil and Rosseau selling his soul— the man, drunk on power, signed his name on the contract with a flourish.  The second he lifted the pen, the paper rolled up and dissolved.  Myotismon Shadow Mode unleashed a sinister laugh and escaped, his bats flying around him and then fluttering out the window to find the exact location of his angel supplement.

To be continued…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	7. No Longer Hidden

A/N:  OK, I hope that wasn't TOO late.  I have been exceptionally preoccupied with Civics homework and practicing for the JV track championship conferences.  I even tried my luck at getting a boyfriend at school but only succeeded as getting him as a friend, which is just fine because the only male in my life should be (and is) MYO! ^^  *huggles love-worn Myo plushie* And now… responses!  (Yay!  I get to write more than last time!  Thanks, reviewers!)

To DarkGemini (FlameShe?): Don't drink and drive!

To VampireNaomi: I'm also a Valmont fan (and he was the inspiration for Rosseau!)  I don't mean anything negative in this, but it is kind of surprising that though you think Myo belongs with Piedmon, you seem to like the AngeMyotismon/Angewomon romance (or at least think it's better than an Angemon/Angewomon.)  Anyway, thanks for reviewing!

To Angel Reaper: Exactly, you can't kill an angel.  But some people don't think so…

To vandegatomoncat: Have an AngeMyo plushie! *throws her said plushie*

To blackmage718: Sorry that took so long! 

Here's the long-awaited (but slightly short) chapter 7!  Enjoy!

Chapter 7

No Longer Hidden

  Moments prior to when the uproar began, a liberally-sized crowd had gathered in the museum in Tokyo that was full of the most valuable and priceless artifacts and jewels, including the worlds largest sapphire (unearthed several weeks earlier and not yet recorded in the record books) and the contents of a sunken treasure chest from six hundred years before the event.  The said jewel would be unveiled to the public that night, surrounded by a crowd that was blocked off by a red velvet rope that, by an unwritten and unspoken law, the curator was only permitted to step past.

  As the tall man in a neatly-pressed tan suit, the head of the museum, stepped past the velvet and took hold of the green cloth that concealed the valuable jewel, a hush fell upon the mob, only broken by the clicks of cameras taking their pictures, accompanied by their flashes.  The head took no notice; he declared, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the discovery of our own Kenji Shii, the Shii Sapphire, now the world's largest."  He drew the cloth back to reveal the priceless gem, bluer than any ocean, glimmering in its momentous beacon of glory.

  "How much is it worth?" questioned a voice in the crowd.

  "It is valued to be over ten billion yen."

  "Ten billion yen, huh?" muttered a stocky, redheaded, black-clad man in the crowd to his shorter partner in his rusty-drainpipe voice.  "Richards, are you thinking what I am thinking?"  He adjusted his sporty sunglasses.

  "Absolutely, Smith," nodded Richards, the shorter and thinner of the two.  He had black hair and olive skin, wearing an identical suit and sunglasses.

  A third man joined them, an African-American with a buzz cut.  He was taller than Smith and had more muscles than the two combined.  Anyone could tell by looking at him that he had been a bodyguard in his former life.  "You two had better start when the museum closes so we don't get sent to jail," he suggested in his deep bass voice.

  What the man, who preferred to go by the name of D to protect his identity, was telling Thomas Smith and Kurtis Richards (called by their last names) to do, was to steal the priceless gem from the museum in the dead of night to add it to Rosseau's collection.  What the billionaire was planning to do with his priceless Japanese artifacts and other related items was to "ransom" them, and the price Tokyo had to pay to acquire them was the captures of Myotismon and Angewomon.  However, since the majority of them were focused on earning the high-value reward of up to $17 million dollars American, the sapphire and other objects would be fringe benefits for Rosseau.

  Smith shifted his gaze around the room impatiently, sight wandering back to the perfectly-cut Shii Sapphire, seductively gleaming on its stand, as well as at the famous and valuable paintings on the walls.  He glanced at Richards, who was perspiring out of impatience and anxiety.

  "Our jet is outside!" Richards reminded D.  "Can't we just steal the frickin sapphire and leave?  It's not like their police is going to catch us!"

  "Especially in this snowstorm," added Smith.

  D crossed his arms, refusing to assist these college-age buffoons he was assigned to work with.  "If you get sent to jail, I refuse to ask Rosseau to bail you out.  It's your own stupidity."  He stood off to the side and clutched the concealed hand gun he always carried with him on his belt, concealed by his jet-black jacket.

  The two men waited until the final news reporters and patrons had trickled out of the room to view the unveiling of the following exhibit, which was only in a few minutes that felt like several hours.  They ducked underneath the velvet rope, breaking the "unwritten rule", then stared at the newly-installed security device: six red laser beams that pointed directly at it and emitted a bright red glow.

  "OK," dictated Smith.  "One… two… three… grab the sapphire and run like hell!"  He and Richards grabbed hold of the weighty jewel and ran, not avoiding the velvet rope.  They tripped over it and stumbled to the ground just as a loud bell rang out throughout the museum.  Entangled in the rope, they struggled and let go of the sapphire, which rolled down the white tiled floor.

  A crowd of people, half of which were security guards and policemen, rushed into the room.  The guards were carrying guns and pointed them both at Smith and Richards, who held their hands up.

  "Step away from the sapphire," instructed one of the police.  "Step away or we'll shoot!"

  All of a sudden, D whipped out his gun and began shooting at the guards and policemen, who got knocked down to the floor, some of which were bleeding from the hit.  Their guns all got knocked out of their hands and fell apart.

  "Come on, guys," he told his fellow robbers.  "Get the sapphire."

  At that time, as police cars zoomed past him, their sirens wailing, Myotismon knew there was trouble brewing somewhere in the city, and that meant an angelic act of bravery.  So he discarded his trenchcoat, leapt into the air, and spread his wings, flying through the newly-accumulating snow of the blizzard, flying above the blue-and-red police lights towards the museum.  He landed on the roof, next to a glass skylight that spanned halfway across, where he saw a room full of artifacts getting robbed by three men.

  "Oh my lord…" he gasped.  "A crime… I must stop it!"  He flew into the sky and then turned completely downward, making a fist and crashing through the glass skylight.  Shards of glass and clumps of snow rained down on everyone as Myotismon landed on the ground, perfectly intact and unscathed despite crashing through a glass window.  His landing blew light objects off to the side, some of which hit Smith and Richards.  "Who did this?" he questioned to the crowd.  "Where are they?"

  The group of humans remained silent until a single female voice shouted, "Oh my God!  It's the angel!"

  "Capture him!" shouted the curator, desperate for more money to buy artifacts for his museum.  "Before he gets away!"

  Myotismon quickly darted out of the way, brandishing his moon staff to attempt to ward the humans away.  "Don't do anything!" he demanded.  "Where are the—"  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Smith, Richards, and D escaping with the sapphire in their hands, sneaking out of the door.  "There they are…"  he leapt into the air and flew as fast as his wings could carry him to the door, where he was confronted by a silver mini-jet with a red racing stripe down the side, with a rope ladder withdrawing itself into the side through a door.

  As the crowd ran towards the vampire, the plane took off into the air.  "Not tonight," muttered Myotismon, flying upwards, his staff glowing bright crimson.  "CRIMSON ROD!" he shouted, aiming a beam of bright red light at the rear of the jet, which got blown into a metal hole.  He could see inside, and that papers and other various objects were blowing outside, along with Roberts and Smith shielding themselves and clinging to their seats.  Soaring faster than the plane was able to, he flew inside and grabbed hold of the sapphire, the plane going faster so it would be more difficult for him to obtain it.  Flying as fast as his wings could muster, Myotismon finally clutched to the sapphire and then ceased his rapid flight, tumbling out of the jet and towards the ground, his lanky arms still wrapped around the jewel.  As briefly as possible, he hovered in the air and placed the sapphire on the sidewalk near the museum before the remainder of the crowd could get to him.  Then he flew to his sanctuary above the clouds, but he knew then even that wasn't safe.  Perspiration glistened on his brow as his wings limped on his sides, exhausted from the pursuit.

  "So you are telling me that you saw an angel blast a hole through the plane, enter it, steal the sapphire, and then leave without a trace?" questioned Rosseau, rubbing his temple as he glowered at his two laymen.  He glanced out the hotel window at the rapidly-falling snow, pondering the alleged hallucination of the two of these men.  "Tell me, Smith and Richards, did you two consume any alcoholic beverages prior to your experience?"

   "N… not that we know of," replied Smith, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, recollecting the beer he and Richards had polished off at lunch that day.

  Rosseau stared at the flickering city lights of Tokyo from the desk of his hotel suite, shortly after Myotismon Shadow Mode had made his arrival.  When he got informed of the heist that almost occurred but was aborted at the last second, he quickly dressed and made a bargain to introduce the Shadow Mode to the lackeys when they returned from the scene of the crime.  And now he believed that the time was exactly right.

  "Gentlemen, I have an announcement for you two.  Several minutes ago, I had… what I thought was a vision.  But it turned out to not be after all."  The lights dimmed greatly, so Smith and Richards temporarily went blind.

  "Hey, what's the deal with the lights?" wondered Richards, maneuvering his hands around randomly and touching Smith's face.

  "Get your sweaty digits off of my—" the partner-in-crime began, but was silenced by a pallid face appearing before him.

  "I see these henchmen seem to be of the same caliber as my own," declared Myotismon Shadow Mode, laying one of his hands on Rosseau's desk.  "But I can change that…"

  "Who the hell are you?" asked Richards, extracting a handgun from his pocket and shakily pointing it at the Shadow Mode.

  The vampire bared his fangs as his lips curled into a grin.  "I am the the darker half of the Vampire Lord of Server, the prominent side.  And I am here to accomplish the desired goal of world conquest.  I have abilities beyond your wildest dreams, including the capability to dominate the minds of all my henchmen.  I already reign supreme over the digital continent of Server."

  Smith and Richards gasped in awe.

  "You look familiar," stated Smith, slightly quavering.  "I saw you before today… you look like, that is to say… the angel."

  "The ANGEL?" questioned Myotismon Shadow Mode, whacking his hand against the desk so far it emitted a cracking noise and Rosseau quickly slid backwards.  "You are telling me that an ANGEL penetrated the barrier in my castle, after I clearly destroyed PyroAngemon?!"

  "No, no no…" sputtered the redheaded man, whose hair stood out starkly against his whitened face.  "Nothing like that, honest!  It's the angel who stole our diamond, he looked exactly like you!  It was like he was your twin or something!"

  The Shadow Mode paused and narrowed his ice-blue eyes.  All three other occupants of the suite shivered at the same moment.  "AngeMyotismon…" he growled.  "The appendage who was holding me back in my conquest… I could have completely annihilated him when I had the opportunity, but unfortunately that little bitch Angewomon had to catch him as he fell…"

  "Ange-what?" Richards blurted out.  "That counterpart of yours?"

  "AngeMyotismon, you fool!" shouted the vampire.  "He and I were one within the digital vampire known as Myotismon."

  "What?" asked Smith.  "What-mon?"

  "MYOTISMON!" shouted Myotismon Shadow Mode.  "He was AngeMyotismon, and he was me.  I was the prominent side of him, rendering him to a Viral form, the very format he (or I) was so infamous form.  The AngeMyotismon side prevented Myotismon from being a completely war-like vampire with no mercy and only a passion to kill.  He HAD to have an aesthetic taste in everything, as concerned about whether or not his suit was neatly pressed and every hair was in place.  With this damn emotion… LOVE…"  At this point he grimaced as if he were tasting something bitter.  "… he loved himself.  Without it getting in the way, I would have been free to conquer all the land I desired!"

  _OK… that made no sense…_ thought Rosseau.

  Smith was still quite skeptical.  "OK, so if I can believe that you're not really some sort of crackhead in a supervillain outfit, show me some of your so-called power!"

  "And so I shall," replied Myotismon Shadow Mode.  He snapped his fingers and spread his black cape, and about fifty bats flew out from underneath, knocking Smith to the ground and nipping at his skin.  As the attendant swatted at the winged rodents, Richards stared in awe.  "Do you wish for more proof now?"

  "I can… see you are… telling… the truth!" gasped Smith.  "I'm SORRY!"

  "You better be," admonished Rosseau.  "Myotismon Shadow Mode means business."

  As the bats flew onto the ceiling of the hotel room, the Shadow Mode's eyes began to glow bright blue, and suddenly a blanket of white fog draped itself over the entire city of Tokyo, obstructing any view below the fifteenth floor of any building.

  "What the hell?" questioned Richards.

  "That is my power of enveloping entire cities in fog," replied the vampire.  "It is a key to world domination indeed."

  Rena, awake and completing her literature homework that night in front of the television, was not able to concentrate on anything, be it the seven comprehension questions she still needed to answer or the cleaning-fluid commercial that was currently on as background.  She knew something was quite different that day, but it was nothing school-related.  It was as if HE CAME BACK.

  No, it couldn't be true.  The brunette heaved a sigh, knowing that he was gone for good and would never love her.  If only he had feelings for her, if only—

  "This just in, a daring rescue has occurred at the West Tokyo Museum," declared a male reporter on the screen, eyes occasionally glancing upwards at the cue screen.  "But not of a person, but rather the newly-unveiled Shii Sapphire, valued at over ten billion yen.  Patrons to the unveiling witnessed a theft committed by two men of unconfirmed identities, followed by the sapphire returned perfectly intact by what was described as an exotic angel."

  The screenshot changed to several of the witnesses, shown with microphones shoved in their faces and all having rosy cheeks and breath that came out in clouds.  Each said something that differed in a way, but vaguely the same.  The interviews began with a young woman and ended with the curator himself.

  "It was about seven feet tall and had really long blonde hair.  Oh yeah, it was wearing a mask.  And its hair reached the ground… I couldn't tell if it was male or female until I saw him in front, shirtless!  He had muscles!  God, he was hot!  And his wings were really weird too."

  "The angel had, get this, blue skin and purple lips.  I don't think he comes from this planet at all."

  "Uh… I wasn't there at the time, but I think I saw something flying away when I got outside."

  "He had bat wings.  Call me crazy, but…" (at this point, the witness sighed slightly) "… I believe it might have been a person in costume."

  "Blue with blonde hair, dressed in white, and had very weird wings."

  "Hey… he might have been that male angel that Ross guy was talking about.  He's worth millions."

  "He saved my museum billions of yen for that return," concluded the curator.  "It was quite a daring rescue, and whoever this mysterious winged man is, I wish to thank him."

  The screen switched to the reporter in the blink of an eye.  "Here we have unedited footage from the security camera of the angel scenario and exactly what happened at the museum earlier this evening."  A black-and-white security video, complete with "9:32 P.M." in the bottom left corner in white digital text, replayed every second of the brief getaway interrupted by Myotismon.

  Rena gasped as she got a closer look at him.  "Is that… it can't be!" she whispered.  "It's HIM!"

  "Rena, turn that television off and finish your homework!" echoed her mother's voice from the kitchen across the hall.

  With eyes pasted to the television set, Rena reached for the remote control and pressed the power button.  The image on the screen transformed from the footage of the angel to a completely black screen.  Staring at her homework, Rena's thoughts wandered from the story she was reading to Myotismon, his long blonde hair in the wind and blue eyes staring into hers.

  She needed to find him before he got captured.

  "Angewomon… where are you?" wondered Myotismon as he sat perched on a soft silvery-blue cloud, looking over Tokyo.  Replaying the brief episode in his mind, he knew he was no longer innocuous, but now a target for angel-hunters, the number of which grew from zero to nearly the entire population of Japan.  It now seemed he needed another angel to remain with him to help him acquire a more secure feeling.

  The answer was a breeze blowing through the air, then dying down, blowing excess snow across the clouds.  The half-angel was able to feel the sharp pricks of the cold against his bare skin at that point, so he curled up and shielded himself with his wings, which substituted for his velvet cape.  They might not have been velvet, rather a tight, rubbery material, but it was the best thing around.

  "Please… come to me… you are my light in the midst of darkness.  When it seems that two worlds are against you, though you may not be opposed to them, you are the only one who has shown her truest feelings for me.  No female is physically attracted towards me despite these good looks I may have—not knowing whether or not I am as truly handsome as I have the illusion of being due to the actuality that I have not seen my reflection at all for what might have been hundreds of years… possibly less… but no female has ever been drawn towards me without my spellbinding powers before you.  I was hopeless the second my Shadow Mode whipped me off of the cloud, and I most likely would have died if you had not saved my life out of… what?  LOVE?

  "Love… I have never encountered this strange emotion before you crossed my path.  I sensed it the day you killed me for the first time, a sensation unlike any other rushing through my veins and into my chest… it prevented me from attacking you right away, eating away at me from the inside.  And then when I became this freak angel, your presence dwelled within me, and I recognized it as that exact emotion I had experienced when I first laid eyes on you.  I understand… love is within me, pouring through the door of my soul.  Is it that which made me enact the favor for those humans tonight?

  "I understand now… love is more potent than anything I had ever experienced before as a heartless vampire ruling over Server.  It is sweeter than wine, more addictive than blood, more comforting than repose in my casket, more beautiful than the sight of darkness over my domain, gives me more companionship than my bats.  Your kisses are so sweet and soft and addictive; I always crave more from you.  As I feel your warm, soft arms wrap around me, it is a great comfort.  Your face and figure are simply beautiful, with your soft golden hair and rosy skin.  You make the most adequate companion I have ever bonded with.  Not even Demidevimon and I have been as close as you and I, much less intimate.  You are an angel, according to humans, angels are messengers of a certain God, and this God is love.  Angewomon… you are love.  My love, my light, my angel."

  Myotismon gazed off into the distance, seeing the lights on the skyscrapers flickering on and off through a deep blanket of fog as a snowstorm poured down onto them.  He sighed, then fought back what few tears were struggling out of his eyes.  "If only you know how much I love you now… do you still love me?  If you do, then come to me."

  The answer was silence.

  "AngeMyotismon, my beloved," whispered Gatomon, her paw against the fogged-up windowpane in Kari's room at that moment.  "I wish I could come to you and tell you how much I love you now… but I cannot leave the tenement for fear of the humans hunting me down as Angewomon."  She sighed and leapt onto the foot of Kari's bed, curling up into a white ball.  "Maybe he is able to elude them… I know he can remain incognito and can survive a night without my presence… he will survive…"

To be continued…


	8. Courage in a Fire

A/N: I have good news and bad news for Wizardmon fans.  The good news is that Wiz did not just dematerialize or get sucked into a deadly plot hole, and he will play a major part in the story.  The bad news… he won't be in the story too often.  Sorry about that!  Maybe Wizzy will get more air time in an upcoming fic.  I like him too!  And now… the review responses!

To Flameshe: Thanks, Rouge!  (Psst, bring Rouge along to read next time!)

To VampireNaomi: It was supposed to be a bit funny… sort of an OOC thing that you wouldn't expect him to say, I guess…

To Elendil: Wizzy didn't fade away!  He's right here!

To vande: It's fine if you like the Shadow Mode better.  And about the J.K. Rowling thing… I doubt it, since a zillion people aren't lining up to get copies of my new book ^^;;

Enjoy, everyone!!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 8

Courage in a Fire

  On December 23, the entirety of Tokyo was blanketed in a fog so thick one thought it could be cut by a knife.  It was quite shocking to all experts in meteorology, since the day was not even remotely hot or humid; as a matter of fact, the frigid air could suck the moisture out of unprotected saturated surfaces.  The light-gray mass concealed everything up to the fifth floor of most buildings, taking on the appearance of a flood; while from far away it looked exactly like a stratus cloud that was shot out of the sky and dropped to the earth.  With the sky's color coinciding with the fog blanket, as well as the color of the snow clusters that fell from it, it seemed that Tokyo was trapped in a mass of grayish-white.

  Rena had decided to sneak out of the apartment, using her frequent alibi of "visiting a friend," in spite of the fact that she didn't have any.  No one, not even her younger twin brothers, had figured anything out about the misfit's lack of friends.  She had decided to seize this opportunity to run away.  "It's not like anyone is going to care," she had muttered.  So, bundled up in a ratty blue coat and her faded pink backpack filled with misshapen sandwiches and her change purse, she headed to the hectic shopping district to see if she could blend in with the mob.

  Wizardmon had also made an escape when the Shadow Mode made his bargain with Rosseau.  Luckily for him, the other evil digimon had not cared.  If anything, it was good riddance.  Over the course of two days, he made his way out of the underground lair and endured the blizzard until he reached the city.  Though he was concerned about leaving footprints in the snow, he was relieved that the snowfall would cover his tracks.  As soon as he reached the Odaiba district, he kept his eyes open, watching the passersby for anyone who looked vaguely like the digi-destined.  He needed to admonish them about the Shadow Mode and how much peril they were in.

  The two runaway souls were about to meet, which was fortunate for both of them in ways that were quite different.

  Rena sighed and slumped down against the wall of the alley that late afternoon, as the sun hung low in the sky, which was blotted out by blackish ribbons of altostratus clouds.  She had spent the day in the shopping district, gazing at goods she wanted to buy but could not afford and dodging the glances of people she knew from school.  She had eaten one of the sandwiches for lunch but threw the remainder of her food in the trash; when a person accidentally knocked her down to the ground, the rations— as well as her— spilled out into a puddle of muddy slush.  She knew that even a freak like her would not eat a soggy, contaminated sandwich.

  Her jeans were drenched and dirty from the knees down.  She did not have enough money for anything, especially a nice warm platter of food.  Her toes were numb from walking in piles of snow, as well as her fingers from her forgetting her gloves.  Her feet ached from walking for hours.  She shivered and hugged herself to keep warm as she stared into the window of the restaurant across the street.  She could smell the alluring aroma of hibachi chicken and shrimp and see dozens of people munching on their dinners.

  "I'd kill for some clear soup…" muttered Rena, her mouth watering.  "…a cup of tea, anything!"  As an attempt to resist the empty feeling in her stomach, she averted her gaze to a pile of cloth in the corner… which stirred.  "What is that?" she asked, wandering over to see what was moving.  She drew the cape away to reveal Wizardmon, who was napping.

  "AAAAAAAH!" she shrieked, jumping away.  "DEAD PERSON!"  The scream did nothing except earn her suspicious glances from the crowd.

  Wizardmon stretched, then rubbed his head.  "Who are you?" he asked.

  Rena stood like a statue, her eyes as wide as plates, occasionally blinking.

  "Don't worry, I won't harm you," assured the wizard, standing up and walking toward Rena, who began to slowly back away.

  Suddenly the brunette heard Wizardmon's voice inside her head.  _Don't worry,_ it repeated.  _I did not mean to frighten you, but I was merely sleeping.  Let me talk to you._

  "H…h… how did… how did you d…do that?" questioned Rena.

  "I am a wizard," replied Wizardmon.  "But a good wizard.  My name is Wizardmon, and I am from the digital world.  Who might you be?"

  "Rena Yuriko," responded Rena, who was beginning to calm down.  "I live in the Odaiba district."

  Wizardmon's ears perked up at the word "Odaiba."  He knew that the digi-destined resided there.  "Tell me… Rena, do you know a boy named Taichi Kamiya?"

  Rena blinked.  "Y-yes," she stammered, astounded that this wizard whom she just met knew about a boy who attended school with her.  "He's in sixth grade with me.  He's OK compared to some of the assholes in my homeroom who shoot spitballs at me and call—"

  "Yes, yes, yes," interrupted the wizard, who did not want to hear about the misfit's peer-related afflictions.  "Tell me, do you recall where he lives?"

  Rena remembered; he lived in the same building as her only friend from school, who had moved to Nerima the summer of the digimon attacks.  So she guided Wizardmon back to Odaiba and directly to Tai's apartment building.  They combed the floors until they arrived at the door with the "Kamiya" nameplate.  She took a deep breath as if she were about to ask him out, then knocked.

  To her luck, Tai was the one who answered.  "Rena?" he asked.  "What are you doing—"  He looked downward and saw Wizardmon, who was peacefully standing in the hall.  "How do you know Wizardmon?"

  "He knew me," replied Rena.

  "Well come in.  Mom and Dad went shopping with Kari, so we're safe.  Yes, you too, Rena!" Tai demanded, seeing how violently his classmate was shivering.  _I can't believe I'm doing this…_ he was thinking as Rena walked into the apartment.  "Uh… are you hungry?"

  "Yes," answered Rena, her mouth beginning to water again.  "I'm starved.  I haven't had a thing to eat all day!"

  "There's soup in the cabinet," instructed the keeper of courage.  "Just heat it up.  And I think there's some sashimi and rice left over from supper in the fridge.  And save some for Wizardmon; he's probably hungrier than you!"

  Ten minutes later, Rena and Wizardmon were shoveling down piping hot food, with Tai just staring and pondering where they put it all.  As they began to decelerate their eating, Tai began to speak.

  "Wizardmon… why are you here?" he questioned.

  "There's something I need to tell you and fast," replied the wizard.  "The fog… Myotismon has returned, and he's nastier than ever."

  Tai stared at Wizardmon.  "Is this true, Wizardmon?  Like how nasty?  Even nastier than Apocalymon?"

  "Yes," answered Wizardmon.  "Let me explain.  I sort of… cast a spell, but it was only halfway performed.  It was supposed to transform him into an angel, but it only did it halfway.  Instead of Angemon, he was AngeMyotismon.  I thought we were safe, but he came back dressed in black leather and appearing more sadistic than ever, calling himself the Shadow Mode."

  "Ange-whatever and Shadow Mode?" questioned Rena.  "So… it's like a Jekyll-and-Hyde thing?" she guessed.

  "That is my guess," reposted Wizardmon.  "Possibly at times he's the Shadow Mode, and others he is AngeMyotismon."

  Tai began to supress a laugh, his face turning red.  Then he began to let it out.  "ANGE Myotismon?  HA HA HA HA HA!!!  OK, the cold is really getting to you!" 

  "No, I saw him as an angel with my own two eyes!" retorted Wizardmon.  He took his staff, which produced a viewing orb that appeared to be like a mirror surrounded by a white mist.  As if it had been a camera, the orb produced a clear, vivid image of Myotismon in his angelic form.

  "Oh… my… God…" whispered Rena.  "It's him!"

  Tai's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates.  "You saw— you're telling me you're familiar with Myotismon?  You know who he is?"

  Rena stared at Tai, astounded.  "Do you?"

  "Yeah!" exclaimed the lead digi-destined.  "What digi-destined doesn't know who Myotismon is?  He was by far the most evil digimon we ever fought against!  We thought he killed Wizardmon, but luckily he must have gotten reconfigured.  He covered all of Tokyo in fog, he sent all these digimon— er, monsters all over the city, he practically destroyed the entire city!"

  Rena stared forward.  So she had fallen in love with a demon all along.  Her eyes wandered downward to the empty bowl of soup in front of her.  "I want to go home now," she admitted.  "Wizardmon can stay with you, Tai.  Thanks for the food."

  "No problem," replied Tai, grinning.  _She's actually a pretty nice girl once you look past the blubber and tacky hand-me-downs,_ he thought as he watched Rena put on her coat and get her backpack.  She waved goodbye and headed out the door.

  "Azulongmon!  I need your permission to enter the real world through your portal," stated Angemon that night.  For the three days subsequent to Pyro Angemon's unfortunate removal, he had prepared a simple plot to take Angewomon back into the digital world, where she would be safe.

  "Why do you wish to do so?" inquired the Guardian.  He was not the type of Guardian who would simply allow anyone to waltz through the portal in his palace.  He needed a legitimate reason as to why they felt they wanted to.

  "Because Angewomon traveled there and I need her to come back to the digital world, where she is safe," replied the digital angel.  "Safe from Myotismon," he added.

  Azulongmon's eyes widened.  "Myotismon?"

  "Yes, Your Greatness.  He is more evil than ever!  He flew into the real world, possibly after Angewomon to wipe her out as well, and then to take over, upsetting the balance—"

  "Angemon, please get a grip.  I sent Wizardmon a spell to transform him into Angemon—"  All of a sudden, the area grew a deathly silent as Azulongmon paused in his speech.  He felt as if he were falling, and his face froze in an alarmed expression.  After the lengthy pause, the Guardian spoke more quietly, a slight tremor in his voice.  "Unless… Wizardmon performed the incantation incorrectly, or omitted several words.  In a spell, every syllable is crucial.  Even if a word is pronounced wrong, drastic results can ensue.  Instead of Angemon, Wizardmon must have transformed Myotismon into… a digital demon."

  "But he was an ANGEL!" insisted Angemon.  "He was AngeMyotismon!  And he was banished from the digital world for all eternity for killing the Rosemon who was the keeper of the digital vegetation!  Were you at the trial?"

  "Why, yes, but that does not edify why Myotismon's darker mode was still rampant in this world when it is physically impossible for a banished digimon to enter the digital world through any sort of portal, not even a hidden one.  The force field…"  Azulongmon musingly paused.  Suddenly, he came to a conclusion.  "Wizardmon's incantation must have… separated the angel from the demon.  They are both Myotismon, yet they are not.  Or are they?…  One of them might be the true Myotismon, the one the other disjoined from."

  "Is there any way to reverse this spell?" questioned Angemon.  "Even one Myotismon is more than enough for us angels to handle!"

  "All spells have counterspells," replied Azulongmon.  "It will be extremely difficult to retrieve, but it will be able to transform either AngeMyotismon or his dark mode back into the initial Myotismon, whichever one is the true one, and the supplement will either become part of him again when in contact with him unless he is destroyed by the true one.  Fortunately for me, I possess a book of spells which I got the original transformation from, and I will give it to Wizardmon in the next dream he has."

  "What if it's too late?" wondered Angemon.  "What if the untrue Myotismon got deleted, or what if WIZARDMON got deleted?"

  "Do you wish to go to the real world, still?" asked Azulongmon, abruptly changing the subject so he would not be interrogated for answers he did not know at the moment.  He was unable to know anything about what was occurring in the real world.

  "Yes, to bring Angewomon back to the digital world," replied Angemon.

  "I wish you good fortune," commendated the Guardian, motioning for Angemon to proceed through the portal at the end of the corridor that was adjacent to his main sanctuary where he dwelled most of the day.  He himself departed for the study, which was down the other hallway.

  Azulongmon's study was quite cavernous and took on the appearance of a cathedral with pure white marble walls and floor, and a glass ceiling.  The towering white bookcases were stuffed with both ancient and pristine books which were mainly records and legends of the digital world.  Among them were histories of the angels and the digi-destined, as well as an encyclopedia of all digimon that ever existed.  (The article about Myotismon was one of the most extended, him being a digimon of myriad feats.  Azulongmon could not resist reading the article about himself.)  Windows lined three of the four walls, letting the sunlight or moonlight— depending on the time of day— stream in.  Near the north end was a clear glass podium, and on it was the largest, heaviest, longest, and oldest book in the entire room: The Book of Spells.  It was over 10,000 thin, yellowing pages in length, the pages between two white covers lined in gold.  A golden ribbon marked the place in the open page.

  Azulongmon floated over to the page, which was open to the spell he had performed last.  It was the one he had given to Wizardmon that fateful night.  He looked over the small text without a trouble— despite being gigantic in size, he had an uncanny sense of sight— and saw the counterspell written underneath it.

  In spite of the fact that he was unable to detect any action in the real world, he had a faint intuition of what magical digimon were feeling at that moment and could get through to them no matter what dimension they were in, unless the barrier between it and the digital world was extremely potent.

  He closed his eyes.  _Wizardmon, can you hear me?_  Then the sensation arrived: Wizardmon was asleep and in a dream world.  He was taken, in spirit, to the darkness the dormant wizard perceived.

  "Azulongmon?" asked Wizardmon.  "Why are you here?"

  "I am here to give you the reversal to the spell, which will take effect when the two beings are close enough to each other.  I am speaking about Myotismon.  Or so to speak, the two Myotismons."

  "Two?" questioned Wizardmon.  "I thought I transformed Myotismon into the angel, and then somehow he returned as his Shadow Mode!"

  "No," answered the guardian.  "When you performed the spell, you actually split the vampire into two counterparts, the yin and yang.  The counterspell will bring everything back to normal, and you must perform it in its entirety, OR ELSE."

  The wizard nodded his head in silence, knowing that he learned from his disastrous impropriety.

  The guardian began to speak.  "_Uniten té enje à té daíven sa té itrinse, antithét ori knovlusi!_  Unite the angel and the devil into the original, reverse my spell!"

  "I shall do my best," replied Wizardmon.

  Azulongmon exited the dream, knowing that for sure, Wizardmon would be able to remember every last syllable. 

  Less than an hour prior to this, the Shadow Mode stated that in order to completely dominate the real world, he needed to capture and delete the only one who could stop him: AngeMyotismon.  He had explained this dilemma to Rosseau and his men, who agreed that they wanted him, but for discrete reasons.  While Myotismon Shadow Mode desired to destroy him, Rosseau wished to exhibit him and Angewomon for money.

  "Why him?" asked the vampire.  "Why not just the female angel?"

  "Because your AngeMyotismon is a freak among angels!  Humans love seeing freak shows!  Circuses thrive on exhibiting freaks!  People would pay hundreds to see a real angel in captivity!"

  The Shadow Mode's lips curled into a fang-baring grin.  "I know there are other angels out there…" he mused.  "Allow me to dispose of my angel counterpart after the night we capture him.  If he struggles to escape, consider it a shorter time."

  "But the question is, how the hell do we capture the friggin angel thing?" asked D, who was smoking a cigarette in the corner.

  "Ah, that can be arranged by creating a danger setting," replied the vampire.  "Set all of Tokyo on fire, which will create victims.  When AngeMyotismon sees how all these pathetic humans are struggling for their pitiful little lives, he will arrive to rescue them.  Then, some of you will pose as victims.  When he gets to you, capture him and bring him to Rosseau's jet.  We will worry about Angewomon later."

  "Excellent," complimented the billionaire, standing up at his desk.  "I would like D, Connolly, and Weston to pose as victims.  Possibly our boss will provide assistance in setting Tokyo on fire?"

  "It would be my pleasure," replied the Shadow Mode.  He flew out the open window as the three men rode down the elevator and left the hotel, then piling into a black Cadillac in the parking lot.  Connolly kept an eye out for Myotismon Shadow Mode in the sky.

  The Shadow Mode halted.  Then he extended a beam of crimson lightning, which he retracted into a small glowing ball.  He hurled it down to the street, where it made a crater that immediately burst into hundreds of towering flames, melting and drying out all snow in its path, then creeping to the buildings that surrounded it.  Screams erupted in the air as Connolly and Weston left the black car and walked casually into an apartment building, rushing against the current of people as they attempted to escape.  Before the escapes could occur, the Shadow Mode whipped the lightning down onto buildings, which began to crumble and break on the inside.

  An entire street of Tokyo was ablaze, with white-hot flames licking the sky and pure black smoke erupting from it in a large cloud, raining ash and soot onto the buildings and streets that were not affected by the fire…

  At that point, Myotismon had seen what happened, and knew that this was the work of the Shadow Mode.  "This is low, even for him…" he muttered to himself.  Since he had been wandering the streets in his long trenchcoat, he shed it and leapt up into the air, not even thinking of the ultimate reward of seeing under Angewomon's helmet.  He just wished to rescue the innocent humans trapped in the web of the Shadow Mode's sinister plots.  Taking off, he was unaware of the passersby who were still showing an interest of the hefty reward involved with the capture.

  Soaring towards the disaster, Myotismon did not show a single sign of reluctance even when the air grew warmer until it was sweltering hot, nearly too hot to breathe even for an angel.  He closed his eyes, his senses as an angel growing more intense.  He could sense that most of the humans were already on the ground, and the dozens of loud sirens blaring on the ground told him that the firefighters were attempting to do their job.  But still, would they know that there were seven humans trapped in a single building.

  "HELP!"  A faint cry of a young girl resounded through the air.  Myotismon was able to sense that the source was currently trapped in a building near them.  Braving the black smoke, which was stinging his eyes, he refused to stop.

  That was when he saw the family of five, which consisted of a mother, a father, a ten-year old boy, a five-year old girl, and a two-year old in her mother's arms, attempting to escape from their apartment, but all exits had been blocked by fallen wooden beams.  The flames were closing in quickly.

  "CRIMSON SWORD!"  Utilizing his sword, he slashed a hole in the window, knocking it inside with a loud bang.

  "W-who are you?" shouted the mother, clutching her two-year old closer to herself.

  "It's the Angel of Death!" shouted the boy.

  "No, no," Myotismon assured the boy.  "I'm here to save you."  He rushed over to the family and knelt down.  "Come here and hold on.  I promise I won't hurt you."

  The father and the boy nodded to the females of the family, then walked over to Myotismon, who took them in his arms and flew out the window with them.  The four-year old clutched her mother's dress, extremely fearful.  They saw the angel come back up, then he took them down.  The ride down was smooth but scary, but he had a firm grip.  They were set on the ground, perfectly intact and far away from the apartment building.

  "Thank you so much," said the mother.  "You saved us all."

  "HELP!"  Another voice resounded from the same building, so Myotismon immediately took off into the air.  Using the same procedure as that of the family, he slashed a hole in the window.  But there was something different about these men dressed in fancy black suits… a different sensation in the air… EVIL.  These men worked for the Shadow Mode.  

  "We are trapped!  Please save us!" shouted the same voice.

  Myotismon flew away, but first he turned back and replied, "I know who your employer is."

  At that point, the apartment collapsed, crashing to the ground and spraying dust and debris everywhere.  All evil in the vicinity had been eliminated, and the lives of the good had been spared.  The fire was extinguished in five more minutes.

  D had been waiting at his car for Connolly and Weston to return, leaning against the side and reading the newspaper.  "I can't make heads or tails of this," he muttered.

  Suddenly a circular hole formed in the sky, as if it had ripped apart to reveal a black hole.  An angel flew out and landed on the ground.

  D's face broke into a grin.  _That must be the angel,_ he thought, not knowing what AngeMyotismon looked like since he had not seen a picture of him.  _Well AngeMyotismon isn't going to get away with this._  He reached for his gun and shot it at Angemon.  It went off with a bang, and the bullet hit him in the arm before he realized what was going on.  Angemon fell to the ground, engulfed in a wave of unbearable pain.  Before he had a chance to do anything else, D withdrew another gun and shot a tranquilizer dart at his chest.  The angel immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  "Well, you will realize that no angel will get away with escaping from me," stated D, grabbing a net out of the trunk, wrapping the angel in it, and then tying it tightly.  He picked up the weighty angel and placed him in the trunk.  Forgetting about his late— in more ways than one— fellow employees, he sped the car back to the hotel.

  "You IMBECILE!" shouted the Shadow Mode, whacking Rosseau's desk with his hand.  "This is not the correct angel…"  He immediately trailed off, considering the possibilities.  "But… he might make an adequate pawn in my plan.  With one angel down, the others will follow.  Including AngeMyotismon."  He walked over to the window and stared at the sky, traces of smoke still lingering in it.  "AngeMyotismon, you are not far away now.  I can sense you, and I will capture you no matter what it takes.  As for you poor escuses for minions, put him in a cage before he awakens."

  At that point, the moon turned a bloody crimson color.

To be continued…

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	9. Watery Grave

A/N:  This chapter is a little short, but that's to compensate for the length of chapter 10.  Next chapter is the conclusion!  Yay!  Because after this story, I am going to write a mega-fic about… I'll give you three guesses who ^^

To Jules: Hmmmm… just wait… maybe Pyro will appear again!

To Flameshe: Thanks.  I liked that part about Rena mistaking Wiz for a dead person too!

To blackmage: I hope the same things too!

To Elendil: Good Sarabi.  Good Sarabi.  Don't eat me… ^^;;;

Until next chapter… remember to review so I can respond to them!  ENJOY!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 9

Watery Grave

  Late that night, past midnight, in his underground headquarters, Myotismon Shadow Mode settled at his ebony desk, fuming with rage and clutching a crystal chalice filled nearly to the brim with blood-red wine.  "Damned humans cannot do anything right," he muttered to himself, then took a long and thoughtful sip of the strong drink.  When he set the goblet down it was approximately half full.  "Uneducated dimwits with the intelligence and common sense of a rock…"  He opened a book on conquest strategies of past villains who had nearly achieved their goals but failed.  "If that is the way those flesh bundles have to be, then I guess I will have to take care of Angewomon and the counterpart scum myself."  He quickly downed the remainder of the red wine and stood up to summon one of his henchmen.  "DEMIDEVIMON!" he bellowed.

  A moment later, the bulbous winged rookie flew into the room as fast as his ragged wings could carry him.  Though he was nearly as dimwitted as the humans, Myotismon was always able to count on Demidevimon to follow his orders and execute them a bit more precisely.  "Yes… Master Myotismon?"  He landed on the desk and began to pant.

  "Demidevimon, the humans are more incompetent than you are.  Instead of capturing Angewomon and AngeMyotismon, they brought back that egotistic Angemon and expected me to reward them for it.  Which is why I decided if I want something done right, I have got to do it myself.  I will bring Angewomon and AngeMyotismon to those slouches, but I need you to release…"  The vampire paused in his speech, deciding on which henchman to release on the digi-destined that coming day.  "… DarkTyrannomon to lure the digi-destined in."  He darkly chuckled, envisioning Angewomon writhing to break free in her captor net, like a fish that had just been caught.

  "Will do, master," saluted Demidevimon.  He flew down the shadowy corridor to release the black, digital Tyrannosaurus Rex from his dungeon cell.

  "It is only a matter of time now…" murmured the Shadow Mode.  "Angewomon, you are mine."

  The next morning marked the beginning of Christmas Eve Day, the day where the Christian population attended church as well as managed to squeeze in any necessary last-minute Christmas shopping.  Tai's family had gone out of town to do exactly that that day, leaving Wizardmon, Agumon, and Gatomon alone in the apartment.  Mimi's family had departed to the shopping district as well.

  DarkTyrannomon stomped through the snow in the direction of the Odaiba district that morning, causing an uproar everywhere it passed.  Police were phoned, and people were reassured that them, as well as Animal Control, would find a way to calm the gigantic dinosaur down.

  "Mom, I'm sick of looking at girly stuff," complained Tai, stuffing his gloved hands into the pockets of his burgundy coat, as he and his family window shopped outside a girls' clothing store, supervising Kari as she bought adorable shirts and accessories for her friends.  Clouds escaped from his mouth as he exhaled.  "And I'm cold and hungry."

  His mother sighed.  "Fine, Tai, you may go and get some lunch," she acquiesced.  "As soon as Kari finishes paying for her things, we'll join you."

  The keeper of courage shot down the street like a bullet with a short, stubby figure clad in a dark blue snowsuit and ski mask struggling to keep up.  It was ironic that though he could defeat such digimon like Apocalymon in battle, he still was unable to survive a day of Christmas shopping with his family.  He gazed around, skimming the street for a decent restaurant.  Finally he came upon a fast-food place.  "Score!" he whispered, then looked downward at the chubby snowsuited figure.  "Hey Agumon, let's get some food!  And don't even think of taking off the snowsuit."

  "Can I at least take off the ski mask?" asked Agumon, who was the one wearing the winter ensemble.

  Tai said nothing in reply; he just dashed off to the restaurant, Agumon following at his heels.  He did his best to dodge whatever people were in the way, not being careful to not splash their shopping bags with snow slush.

  "Tai, look out!" shouted Agumon.

  Tai could not stop himself in time, as he stepped onto a liberally-sized sheet of ice that covered the sidewalk.  He flailed his arms and planted his other foot on the ground as an attempt to cease his slipping, but his other foot gave way and a second later, he found himself falling to the ground.  As his butt touched the ice, he slid across the frozen puddle and hit a person in a pink overcoat and clutching several bulky shopping bags, causing her to scream and fall over, dropping her bags on the ground.  Various wrapped toys, clothes, and even a patterned blanket spilled out.

  "Watch where you're going, you klutz!" she shouted, straightening her fuzzy pink earmuffs.  "You almost messed up my coat!"

  "Sorry," apologized Tai, turning bright red.  He nearly jumped when he saw his victim.  "Mimi!  What are you…  I mean, that is to say…"

  "I knew you would be idiot enough to slip," denounced Mimi, her cheeks tinged crimson.  She stood up, brushed the snow off of her coat, and stooped down to pick up the mess.  "I bet you were going to the restaurant.  Always thinking of your stomach instead of where to go—"

  *RRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!*  A cacophonous roar resounded through the streets, accompanied by people running around the corner.  Tai, Mimi, and Agumon whirled their heads around in that direction, forgetting about the ice incident, just in time to see DarkTyrannomon prowling through the streets.  Though he necessarily did not want people to get suspicious of Agumon, or even get panicky, Tai was willing to break the rules in order to save his fellow humans.

  Unfortunately, he ignored the two Bakemon that were hovering fifteen feet behind them, for they were invisible as preparation for ambush.  They were sent by the Shadow Mode to capture Gatomon if she was there.

  Agumon abruptly shed his snowsuit and ski mask as Tai's digivice began to tremor and emit a brilliant orange glow.

  "Agumon, digivolve to…"  He jumped up into the air as he glowed the same color as the digivice and transmuted his shape, expanding at the same time.  "…GREYMON!"

  Spectators gasped as Greymon stomped into the center of the street, clenching his gigantic fists and prepared to take down DarkTyrannomon.  The dark dinosaur growled as he saw another digimon braced to fight, then roared so hard people within a thousand-foot radius covered their ears in agony.

  "NOVA BLAST!"  Greymon leaned back, then spit out a fireball as large as a car.  As it hit DarkTyrannomon, the dinosaur stomped back and roared a third time, the place the fire hit searing with pain.

  "Is Palmon with you?" questioned Tai, a twinge of fear in his usually courageous voice.

  "No," replied Mimi.  "But is Kari with you?"

  "Yes!"

  "Then can you get Gatomon?"

  "GATOMON'S IN MY APARTMENT WITH WIZARDMON!" shouted Tai over the discord of DarkTyrannomon attacking.

  The Bakemon began to cackle, then fly off.  One of them flew in front of DarkTyrannomon and said, "She's not here.  Go back home."  In an instant, the dinosaur dematerialized to quickly reappear again in the Shadow Mode's dungeon, accompanied by the Bakemon.  It was not a matter of getting reconfigured; it was the rare power of teleportation that the ghosts possessed.

  Greymon hit the ground, temporarily knocked out by the attack.  He de-digivolved to Agumon, who Tai and Mimi ran over to.  People began to crowd around a dinosaur-shaped concrete crater where the digimon was lying.  "What… what happened?" he managed to moan.

  Tai and Mimi appeared perplexed.  "I don't know," replied Tai.

  The two Bakemon, one of which was holding a brown sack, phased through the walls of Tai's apartment, familiar of its location from the invasion of the preceding summer.  They skulked through the halls, barely making a noise.  They peered through each of the doors they passed until they reached the door of Kari's bedroom.  Inside, Gatomon was peacefully sleeping at the foot of the bed, oblivious to any evil around her.  Unfortunately for the Bakemon, Wizardmon was in Tai's bedroom, which was adjacent to Kari's.  One of them had seen him dozing on Tai's futon.

  "You keep an eye out for the wizard scum," instructed the Bakemon with the burlap sack.  "I'll get Gatomon."  He phased through the door to the room.

  Gatomon was awakened from her sleep by a seductive yet scratchy mumbling.  "Here kitty kitty kitty…  Here kitty kitty kitty…"  She opened one eye and peered around the room until she saw a white blotch holding open a sack, which was gaping wide like a giant mouth about to swallow her up.  "Well, little pussycat, take a good look before you're CAPTURED!"

  In an instant, the bag closed around Gatomon, who began screaming and clawing at the bag for her life, getting lifted off the ground.  The sack was scratchy and smelled like corpses.  She was sweating and nearly suffocating from the hot air.  "LET ME OUT!  FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE LET ME OUT OR I'LL DIE!" she cried at the top of her lungs.

  "Don't you fret; Master Myotismon isn't going to let you die before we get to his headquarters!" shouted the voice.  "We're taking the express back!"

  "Myotismon?!" gasped Gatomon.  Then she realized who her captors were.  "BAKEMON!"

  She heard wind rushing around the bag and through some of the pores, giving her a breath of fresh, cool air.  She would have been grateful if she had not been so frightened at that point.  Her thoughts were assaulting her so much, her mind halted altogether.  Her heart was beating like a hammer in her chest, which was beginning to ache.

  "Master, we have captured the female angel!" exclaimed the second Bakemon.

  Then came the sound of something creaking open, then various male voices mumbling and chuckling to themselves.  Gatomon felt herself getting dumped out of the bag.  She made an impact on a hard metal surface, then heard a door slamming shut.  When she came to her senses, she saw herself surrounded by metal bars and a medley of men in black suits in a familiar surrounding… _The TV station!_ implemented Gatomon.

  "She doesn't look like an angel to me," commented Rosseau.

  "That can be arranged," declared a familiar voice.  The crowd parted to reveal the Shadow Mode, who took a long whip of Crimson Lightning.  "Digivolve," he growled.  "Damn you," he added.

  "Myotismon!" cried Gatomon.  "What—"  Suddenly she saw the whip of lightning touch her cage, which glowed bright red and emitted unbearable electrical currents that were so strong one could see through her flesh down to the bone.  She screamed her loudest.

  "Digivolve if you want this to cease!"

  The first item on the cat's priority list was to live, so she quickly announced, "Gatomon, digivolve to… ANGEWOMON!" and landed on the bottom of the cage.  The Shadow Mode withdrew his whip as the angel flopped down to the floor, limp as a wet dishrag.

  "If you want to live, you had damn well better stay that way," imperiled the vampire.  "And Rosseau, you owe me.  Your incompetent ship of fools couldn't even steal a kiss, much less this digital treasure."  He and the humans departed.

  A tear ran down the angel's rosy cheek.  Had she been seduced by Myotismon, lulled into thinking he had completely become an angel?  "Myo…" she sobbed into her hands, "…I thought I loved you!  Angemon was correct; I never should have fallen in love with you!  I was such a fool, believing you for all that time!"  She buried her face into her arms and cried out loud.

  "All we need now is AngeMyotismon…" the Shadow Mode reminded Rosseau.  "The real world is as good as mine."

  "But do you think we could use my men for this one?" wondered the multimillionaire.  "If we use your Godzilla-looking monster, you won't have a city to reign over."

  The vampire paused, then actually considered it.  "We will need a situation of mortal peril for this, giving him a diversion so you can prepare for his capture.  But just to warn you, judging by the past attempt, he is a devious bastard who can't be fooled.  Do not act as victims this time.  And I want this completed before the day ends or I will kill you all."

  Rosseau's employees noded, then walked away.

  Tai's family returned from shopping that late afternoon.  Kari dashed off to her room, clutching a fuzzy lime green sweater that was small enough to fit a newborn child.  "Gatomon, guess what I got!" she shouted, opening the door.  She looked around the room and saw no sign of Gatomon in her room.  "Gatomon, where are you?  GATOMON!" she shouted.  Her eyes wandered onto her bed, where a small piece of paper lay.  She picked it up and read it.  "Give up hope before you die as well…  GATOMON!" she screamed, then flung herself onto her bed and cried into her pillow.

  Kari's wailing woke up Wizardmon and caused her family to dash into her bedroom.

  "Kari!  What happened?" wondered Mrs. Kamiya.

  "GATOMON'S DEAD!" wailed the keeper of light.  "SOMEONE KIDNAPPED HER AND KILLED HER!"

  Wizardmon climbed onto her bed and patted her back.  "Don't worry, she's not dead," he assured her.  He saw Kari turning her teary-eyed head towards him.  "But she was kidnapped… by Myotismon Shadow Mode."

  "MYOTISMON???!!!"  Tai's eyes were nearly popping out of his head.  "I knew it was him!  I didn't know he returned that fast!  Oooh, he is going to be sorry that he messed with my sister!"  He left his bawling sister, confused-looking parents, and Wizardmon, to dash to the nearest phone.  He called all the other digi-destined as quickly as he could to warn them.

  At that exact time, Rena's family was driving home in their old, rusty, gray station wagon from the church service, which was held across the bridge from where they lived.  A sign warned them that they needed to take extra precautions, as there were small patches of ice covering it.  She was in the backseat with her twin brothers Kojiro and Kenji, staring at the sky outside.  So much was on her mind that she just wished to forget it all.  She looked at the orange sun sinking in the golden sky and the purplish-gray clouds passing through it.  The bay was below them, placid as it was enveloped in a thin sheet of white ice.  Just as she escaped into that utopia of her mind, her mother's shrill, angry voice interrupted her.

  "Kaito, didn't you read the sign?  Slow down!" she scolded Rena's dad.

  "I know how to drive," huffed Rena's father, gripping the wheel.

  "Wouldn't it be cool if Daddy crashed the car?" asked Kojiro.  He and Kenji started talking about car crashes.

  "Boys, I need to concentrate!" shouted Mr. Yuriko.  "Why can't you be more like Rena and be quiet when I need to?"  He let go of the wheel and turned back towards his sons, accidentally pressing his foot against the acceleration pedal.  "If you—"

  "KAITO, THE CAR!" screamed Mrs. Yuriko, seeing a huge sheet of ice covering the bridge.

  Rena felt a jolt as her father swerved around.  He pressed the brake down, but the car was skidding across the sheet of ice and then spinning out of control.  All five members of the Yuriko family began to scream out of sheer terror as the car crashed through one of the cables that held up the bridge, which was an overhead bridge.  The car teetered on the edge of the bridge, about to fall.

  "Bingo," muttered Richards, bringing the black Cadillac to a halt, unnoticed as all other cars in the vicinity screeched to a stop, people piling out and whipping out their cell phones in a shaky attempt to call for help.  "Keep your eye out for the angel," he dictated, stroking the tranquilizer gun on his lap.

  After several minutes, which seemed like several hours, several identical trucks and helicopters seemed to magically arrive, lights blaring through the darkening sky.  News teams and helicopters followed.  Hundreds of people formed a circle around the scene.

  "Quick, don't worry about the presents," said Mrs. Yuriko.  "Koji and Kenji!  Get out now so we can follow you out the backseat."  The two boys undid their buckles with a snapping noise, swung the door open, and clambored out onto the bridge.  Rena's parents also undid their seatbelts and climbed over their seats into the back.  "Rena, quick!"

   Rena pressed the button that fastened her seatbelt together, but nothing would move.  "It's stuck!" she cried, as pale as a ghost and sweating.  "Help me!"

  As her father escaped, Rena's mother quickly pulled in both directions, but it wouldn't budge.  As the car tipped at a steeper incline, Mrs. Yuriko followed her instinct and retreated, slamming the door behind her, leaving Rena alone in the car.  She stepped onto the bridge and shouted, "DON'T LET IT FALL!  MY DAUGHTER'S STILL IN THERE!"  But as the rescue vehicles plowed through the mob to where the car was tipping towards its watery grave, the incline came to be too much for the car, which immediately plummeted, bumper first, to the ice below.

  "RENA!" shouted Mr. Yuriko, extending his hand and preparing to jump off, but two members of the rescue team restrained him.

  The car hit the ice with a crash, and Rena's seatbelt buckle finally spat out the belt, which snapped back to its normal position.  The ice around the car broke apart in large chunks until there was a large jagged hole filled with water.  "HELP ME!" screamed Rena.  "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"  She scrambled around the car in an attempt to find a safe outlet, but before she figured out that she could open the back door adjacent to the trunk, the vehicle sank in the water, slowly filling with the liquid that leaked through the car doors and windows.

  As an uproar rose in the crowd, panicky rescue agents whipped out all their walkie-talkies to call for extra help.  Rena's mother buried her head into her father's chest and began to weep.  "My daughter is going to die!" she wailed.

  Then several hundred gasps resounded in the air, and dozens of hands pointed towards a shape which was silhouetted in the sky above.  It was humanoid in shape, but it had six wings protruding from its back, and it flew towards the disaster scene.  Everyone's heads turned to look.

  "It's… it's an angel!" shouted a random female voice.

  Above, Myotismon had sensed the crisis and would not stop at anything until whoever was in peril was alive and well afterwards.  He scanned the ice below and saw the gigantic chasm filled with dark water.  His innate angelic sense told him that a young girl was imprisoned in her sinking car.  He hovered in the air, knowing that he needed to risk his life if this girl was to be saved.  He took a deep breath of air, ignoring the helicopters that were drawing closer to him to get a good look, and dove headfirst into the water below.

  The water underneath the ice was freezing and dark, making it nearly impossible for him to see.  _I only have one chance,_ thought Myotismon as he pushed himself through the water with the aid of his arms and wings.  He could feel his air supply slowly diminishing, and the cold water was compressing his body, which had gone numb.  _Where are you?_

  Out of nowhere, down several meters and still sinking, were two white lights that were the headlights of the car.  Following his instinct, the half-angel swam downwards, hoping that his deductions were accurate and this was the human.

  Meanwhile, Rena screamed and cried as the wintry water filled the car up to the backseat.  "I'm going to die!" she cried.  "And on Christmas Eve, too!  I NEED A SAVIOR!"

  Then a white figure outside the car made her jump in sheer shock.  It grew closer, and the girl grew more frightened.  "IT'S THE ANGEL OF DEATH!" she screamed.  "Please don't kill me!"  She began to cry out of fear as Myotismon reached the car and tried to pull the door open, his face turning blue from lack of oxygen and his blonde hair swirling behind him like smoke.  Much to Rena's horror, he opened the door, and water poured through in a river, like him.

  Gasping for a breath, Myotismon grabbed Rena by the arm and held her to his chest.  "Don't be alarmed!" he assured her.  "I'm here to rescue you!  Hold on if you want to live!"  He felt a vague sensation of protectiveness as the girl wrapped her arms around him and groped onto two of his wings.  The water had reached up to their necks, so there was not much time left.  "Take a deep breath and hold it!"

  Obeying the vampire, Rena inhaled so much air she thought her lungs would burst.  Myotismon escaped through the door, holding Rena.  He swam up to the top of the car, crouched down, and kicked off of it in an attempt to rise to the surface faster.  Water rushed past them and grew lighter with each passing second.  He reached the hole in the ice and aimed for that.  He could see the jagged gap growing larger and larger… he needed to make it before the girl passed out from lack of air…

  Rena slowly let out several air bubbles and desired more.  She felt water seeping into her mouth and her vision growing dimmer…

  Myotismon flew out of the water into the air, hovered there a moment, then flew to the bridge, where he placed Rena.  Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open.  Suddenly, she coughed up a river of water and opened her eyes.  She was on a flat concrete surface, staring at the sky at dusk.  She wanted to scream for joy; she was alive!  Soaked to the bone, but alive nonetheless!  She saw her savior standing over her.

  "My angel!  My hero!" she exclaimed, standing up.  As a rescue worker took a gray fleece blanket and placed it over her shoulders, she ran up to Myotismon and looked at him.  Everything about him seemed to be angelic… his blonde hair clinging to his pale blue face… his wide blue eyes showing sincere concern for her… his white bat wings might as well had been two feathery angel wings and his scanty white suit could have been a majestic silk robe.  A halo would have made the ensemble complete.

  All of a sudden, she realized who he was.  "Ange… AngeMyotismon?" she asked.  "I thought you were evil!  But now I realize that you are my guardian angel!"  She grinned and closed her eyes, slinging her arms around his wiry waist and pressing her head against it.  She could feel his fervent warmth entering her body and ceasing her shivering.

  Feeling for Rena and knowing how much she loved him, Myotismon decided to wrap his arms around her in comfort.  _How did she know my name?_ he wondered.  He was rendered speechless; words could not describe the exact sensation he had at the moment.  It was a combination of concern, gratitude, sympathy, relief, and slightly worried about what was imminent.  Somehow he had a sense that something was about to happen to him, something terrible.  It was all a jumble, everything seemingly a blur.  Voices resounded around him, red and blue lights whirled through the vicinity…

  "You are the one I fell in love with," added the girl.

  Myotismon saw Rena's family approaching.  "You saved our daughter!" exclaimed Rena's mother.  "How can we ever repay you?"

  "Cool, it's one of those angels!" exclaimed Kenji.  "Only it's not one of those holy angels.  He's a cool freak angel!"

  "Yeah, check out those wings!" Kojiro pointed out.

  "Be nice," chastised Rena's father.

  "You know what I think?" asked Kenji.  "He's got bat wings and… fangs!  He must be some sort of vampire as well.  A dark archangel!"

  Myotismon said nothing; he was just grateful that he saved a life that was within an inch of death.  He felt Rena's arms wrap around him tightly, and he sunk into peacefulness.

  Abruptly, he felt a puncture in his left arm and jumped back, shouting.  He looked and saw a tranquilizer dart stuck in it, slowly spreading whatever fluid was in it through his body and putting him to sleep…  Rena ran up to him and screamed, "AngeMyotismon!"  All of a sudden, his side was pricked by another dart in case the first was unable to work.  He fell to his knees and bent over.  "Who would do such a thing?"  She began to cry again.

  "Do not… fret over me…" groaned the half-angel as his vision grew dim.  He saw two men wearing black suits flinging a net over him, but he was so zapped of energy he could not maneuver to escape.  "Let… me… leave here…"  He closed his eyes and descended into a world of darkness.

  "Someone kick them in the balls!" shouted Kenji.

  "Yeah, they gotta pay for what they did!" added Kojiro.

  Smith took out a large machine gun the length of his arm and pointed it at Rena, who ran to her mother and wrapped her arms around her.  "Nobody move," he ordered.  "Anyone who gets within five meters of the angel will be shot on the spot!"

  "NO!" screamed Rena.  "He saved my LIFE!"

  "The angel is ours now, little girl," chuckled D.  "If you take a step forward, you'd be better off left in the frickin water."  He and Smith loaded the fully restrained Myotismon into the back of the black Cadillac and drove off, leaving a frightened crowd behind.

  At that point, Wizardmon raised his staff and declared, "_Uniten té enje à té daíven sa té itrinse, antithét ori knovlusi!"_  Everything had been perfectly recited, and it was only a matter of time before the yin and the yang would become the true Myotismon…

To be concluded…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	10. Dark Archangel

Final Author's Note: Well this is the end!  I apologize for putting less effort into the more recent chapters; I had not updated in a long time and was in a hurry to finish them before the story died.  I promise this chapter will have the same quality as the first.  Thank you to all my reviewers (in the order they first reviewed): blackmage718, Ductapophiliac, Dark Gemini (technically FlamesheRuby), Sabrina Black (now Daylight Dreaming), Kyer, vandegatomoncat, Angel Reaper, Avalon, LadyApocalymon, Devidramon, Elendil Star-Lover, Blackout12, Jules Verne (the PyroAngemon lover!), MegaScythe, and VampireNaomi!

To VampireNaomi: And the answer is… MYOTISMON!  You're right!  You get a cookie!  *hands Naomi a cookie*  But Wiz and Puppetmon (and the other Dark Masters) will be in it too!

To blackmage718: Where do you get all those chairs to whack things with?

To LadyApocalymon: Sure can't wait for the substantial commentary!  Also, the rescue was his third angelic act.  

To Elendil Star-Lover: I read one!  BTW, thank Sarabi for not eating me! :P

To vandegatomoncat: Wow, that Shadow Mode plushie is getting love-worn!  (BTW, I might send you a pic of the Shadow Mode if you want, or I'll just put one of him and AngeMyo on my site!  Only if the computer PSP is on is in commission.)

To Daylight Dreaming: I'm going to make it as interesting as it gets!

To everyone: THANK YOU for your reviews!  **Coming Soon: My mega-fic "Nightmare Soldier '25!"**  It will be up this July!  Enjoy the conclusion!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 10

Dark Archangel

  After what seemed like hours of a deep slumber, Myotismon awoke in a dreamy blur, groaning as he felt a hard metal floor against him.  Something about him felt different, as if he was completely drained of something, but he was unable to tell what.  It wasn't energy, though his exhaustion was overwhelming.  He attempted to sit up and contemplate this, but he felt something thick around his ankle, chaining him to something…  As he regained his vision, the vampire realized that he was in a cage, chained to the wall by means of shackles, and in a familiar-looking fortress.

  The worst shock was yet to come.  He felt no pain in his wings…  He whirled his head around to see if they had fallen off, but he shouted out and nearly jumped up from where he sat.

  He was no longer an angel; rather, he was no longer in his AngeMyotismon form.  His wings had shriveled away without a trace, his hair had waned back to its preferred masculine length, he was dressed in his blue medieval-style suit once again, and his sword and staff— though not with him at that time— had most likely disappeared.  However, his bats were not capable of recognizing him as their master; the Shadow Mode was much eviller and was the dominant portion of the united Myotismon.

  "What have you DONE TO ME?" he shouted, staring at his hands.  He pounded the floor of his cage, and a crashing noise echoed through the chamber.  "Who did this?  I was beginning to get accustomed to the life of an angel, possibly even ENJOY it, when this damn force changed me back and confined me within this cage, this cell!"

  "Who is that?" queried a male voice from across the room.  The vampire ceased his expressions of self-pity when he heard it.  He looked around the room, which had slightly familiar surroundings… it was about the same size as a living room.  The floor was covered with white tiles and the walls were the same color, except for one which was occupied by a panel of black square screens, and a silver control board underneath.  The brown door was closed and locked.  He immediately recognized it as the TV station, where he had been defeated for the first time.  Angemon was inside one cage, Angewomon within the other.  Angemon appeared to have an enervated look to them, but still enough energy to keep himself awake.  The other angel appeared to be in a deep sleep, if not deceased.

  "Is that you, Angemon?" asked Myotismon.

  "Yes," replied the angel.  "But who are you?"

  The vampire was reluctant to answer; the angel would be furious at him for no tenable reason, or a myriad of them…  Still, he wanted to free them from their cages; he was now a digimon of darkness again, so the curse did not affect him.

  He sighed and decided he had to tell the truth, no matter how troublesome the consequences would be.  "It is I, Myotismon, suffering the same agony as you, detained in a cage in this very chamber.  I do not know how I got here, or when, but it was not I who committed the same act to incarcerate you."

  "It was you," answered Angemon.  "You might not believe this, but you… you constrained yourself… it was a different form, clad in black leather and assisted by four human men.  They brought you in—you were still AngeMyotismon—and placed you in the third cage in this room.  The black man, who was the one who captured me, took two tranquilizer darts out of your body and laughed about how ironic it was that it took four to even impede an African elephant but only two to put an angel to sleep for a long enough time to do what they were doing.  When you were in the cage, the black haired one (who goes by the name of Rosseau and appears to be the one in charge) warned the other three that the Shadow Mode was arriving to see if they did their job.  The second he opened the door and stepped into the room, something abnormal occurred…"

  At that point, the vampire listened carefully.  If this pertained to the Shadow Mode in some manner, he must utilize it to completely extinguish him from the earth's surface.

  "Your body, though still dormant, began to glow bright crimson, the analogous color of your Crimson Lightning, so intense everything in the room was bathed in that color.  Your wings shriveled up and then fell off, dissolving on the floor of the cage.  Then your hair reversed the growth it experienced when you transformed for the first time, returning to its natural length.  The sword you had in your belt dematerialized as well.  When the light dimmed, I was temporarily blinded, but when my sight returned you were Myotismon once again.

  "'What the' –the black man uttered a vile four-letter word that I cannot bring myself to say— 'happened to the freak angel?' he questioned.  'Hey Myotismon, do you know what happened to him?'

  "The Shadow Mode, already a ghostly pale, turned a shade of white so ghastly even his fangs appeared less white.  He backed out of the room cautiously and frantically retorted, 'The spell has reversed itself, and he is the true Myotismon!  If I do so much as come into contact with his cape, I will reunite with that abomination and never fulfill my plot for world domination!'  With a swish of his cape, he escaped to another room, and the four men followed him.  The redheaded one returned to lock your cage, but then left.  You were out for about half an hour before you woke up."

  The vampire realized something.  "But we are digimon, aren't we?  We must be able to escape these cages."

  Angemon's face fell.  "Angewomon attempted to cut through the bars, but the Shadow Mode's darkness infected this cage, reflecting the attack back at her.  She is still out cold from the darkness, but since you are now a virus type, you can penetrate these bars because you are immune to it."

  The angel was interrupted as the door opened with a creak.  Immediately it seemed as if both the Thermostat and the fluorescent lighting on the ceiling had gone out of commission, but as a flock of loyal bats fluttered into the control room, both watchful digimon knew that for sure, it was the Shadow Mode.  Their prediction was verified to be correct as the dark vampire entered the room, cautiously peeking at his supplement's cage to see if he awakened.

  "Don't you even think about it, Angemon," threatened the vampire, opening Angewomon's cage.  "By the time you figure out how to escape, I will be long gone with Angewomon and Myotismon.  And then I will dispose of you in a suitable way…"

  The expression on Angemon's face had transformed from calm to frightened to furious.  "Don't toy with me, Myotismon!" he shouted.  "HAND OF FATE!"  He stuck his hand through the bars of the cage and made a fist.  A white beam of light shot out but ricocheted off an unseen force field and straight back at its parent, knocking him from the end of the cage he was standing to the back, which was touching the wall behind him.  As he hit the wall, the Shadow Mode took a rope of his Mega Crimson Lightning and wrapped one end around one of the bars.  As Angemon fell to the bottom, the entirety of the cage glowed a neon red surrounded by surges of electricity.  The second he hit the ground, he screamed and writhed in pain, a slight hissing sound resounding through the room, his body emitting steam.  "YOU WILL REGRET THIS!" he shouted.

  "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" demanded Myotismon.

  The Shadow Mode turned his head around and refrained from electrocuting the angel.  He drew his whip back and disgustedly said, "Myotismon?  You finally awoke?  Well you are here to stand by helplessly as you witness your girlfriend's death!  MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  He reached into the cage and pulled Angewomon out.  Holding her in his arms like a mother holds a baby, he left the room in an instant.

  "Myotismon…" Angemon gasped as the light and heat returned, "…you are our only hope.  My trust is in you, and if you rescue her… I will… be…"  He hit the floor of the cage, as if he had just fallen asleep.

  The vampire grew both concerned and outraged, seeing red.  What if the Shadow Mode killed Angewomon?  The entire digital world would suffer.  And Angemon… he came here just for her safety.  If it hadn't been for him… if only he had not have been so evil… he was the one who landed two of the digital world's most prestigious angels in this predicament, and he must find a way to rescue Angewomon.  It was not for himself; he was not on his own mind.  He chose to do this out of his formidable love for her… and Angemon.  The entire digital world as well.  He did not care if he died trying, either.

  "ANGEWOMON!" he shouted.  "The Shadow Mode will pay for what he has done!"  Without thinking, out of unadulterated fury, he utilized the first attack he could think of.  "CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  For an unexplainable reason, the whip of lightning phased through the bars on one side and then again, and those bars touched twice by the lightning fell to the floor beside it with seven clangs.  At first Myotismon was perplexed from this phenomenon… why hadn't the lightning fried him like Angemon, or reflected?  Then he understood: The heat of his anger and his love combined cut through the metal bars, giving him acess to perform the deed his heart was set on.

  Despite a lack of energy from the capture, he began to wake up, stand, then run out of the door to where he assumed the Shadow Mode would be: the control tower on the roof.

  "It's an emergency," Tai explained to his fellow digi-destined and digimon, who were standing on a street corner when the sun completely set, bundled up in whatever winter clothes they had.  A cold draft blew through, carrying snow with it from the black clouds in the sky above.  The nimbostratus clouds shielded them from the sight of the moon above, which was a ghastly shade of blood-red, three times as scarlet as it had been when Angemon was captured.  "Myotismon returned and now he captured Gatomon, probably to take care of some unfinished business with her."  He looked at his sister, who was wailing into his coat.  "Wizardmon told me about it."

  "I'm sorry, Kari," apologized Sora, kneeling down and patting Kari's back.  "I'd be devastated if I lost Biyomon to him, especially on Christmas Eve—"  She turned her head to see Rena running up to them.  "Rena Yuriko?  I heard about your rescue!  That angel who rescued you—"

  "Is Myotismon!" exclaimed Rena.  "And he's been captured by a bunch of Americans in black suits who took him in the direction of the TV station!"

  All the digi-destined and digimon appeared baffled at what the girl they barely knew said.

  "So, according to what I just heard…  Myotismon captured Gatomon, but Americans in black suits captured Myotismon?" questioned Izzy, the most intelligent of all the digi-destined, who was examining his digivice.  The wind ruffled his short auburn hair, and he reached into the pocket of his pea-green coat and donned a raspberry-colored knit hat.

  "No," answered Wizardmon, who sounded the calmest of all the sixteen who were in their group at the moment.  "I performed a spell that split Myotismon into two parts… AngeMyotismon the angel, and Myotismon Shadow Mode, a demon who is even more sadistic than Apocalymon."

  The digi-destined stared at the wizard.

  "I don't believe him," said Matt.  The others silently agreed as to not hurt Wizardmon's tender feelings, except for Tai and Rena.  They were the only ones who did.

  "You will not believe this," Izzy proclaimed.  "I am getting readings of not only Gatomon's presence in the vicinity of the television station, but Patamon as well!"

  "But we haven't seen Patamon at all," said Gabumon, Matt's digi-destined partner digimon.  "He never came to our— unless he was captured by Myotismon before he could come!"

  "What are we waiting for?" asked TK.  "We need to get them back before Myotismon kills them!"

  "Right," agreed Joe.  "And we need to make it quick before we catch pneumonia."  He was quite phobic of sickness, and it showed by his heavy overcoat, mittens, a scarf, a hat, and earmuffs.  "It's way below freezing here, you know, and the weather has been quite unseasonable all year—"

  "Enough about that, someone digivolve and carry all of us to the TV station!" said Mimi.

  "I've got that covered," said Gabumon.  He began to glow the color corresponding to Matt's digivice, a soft sky-blue color.  "Gabumon, digivolve to… GARURUMON!"  In the place of the yellow lizard in a blue dog coat, stood a blue snow wolf with darker cerulean tiger stripes.  He knelt down so all thirteen others could gain access to his back.  Rena, like all the passersby, backed away with a scream, but Tai laid his arm on her shoulder and reassured her that Garurumon was OK and wouldn't eat her.  Rena jumped up onto his back and felt his smooth, sleek fur coat.  It was pleasantly warm underneath her legs.  She was seated between Tai and Kari, whose crying had diminished into sobbing.

  "Hold on," warned Tai.  "If you slip, I've got you."

  "Tai, am I sensing a spark between you and Rena?" Agumon teased.

  "Agumon, this is no time for teasing!" scolded the Keeper of Courage, his cheeks and ears glowing pink.  At that point, Garurumon galloped off at record speed towards the TV station, dodging any obstacles in his way, including fearful people and emotionless vehicles.

  Five minutes later, they had made their way through the dark halls up to the roof of the TV station, where they defeated Myotismon for the first time.  They looked all over for the vampire and the angels.

  "Rena, why don't you and Kari go look for Gatomon?" suggested Matt.

  As Rena and Kari opened the door on the roof to return downstairs, the Shadow Mode appeared, Angewomon floating in the air, a crimson light aura surrounding her entire body.  She appeared to be asleep yet in pain, though the only evidence of that was her mouth open as if screaming in agony.  Her skin had already changed its tint into a snowy white color.

  "What are you doing to her, Myotismon?" asked Tai angrily.

  "Merely disposing of her… draining her of energy and life so I can absorb her powers, enough to rule the earth!" answered the Shadow Mode.  He darkly chuckled to himself and added, "And you digi-destined are not going to stop me with your feeble strength!"

  "We'll show you who's feeble!" retorted Agumon.  "Everybody digivolve!  Agumon, warp digivolve to… WARGREYMON!"

  Garurumon de-digivolved back to his rookie form.  "Gabumon, warp digivolve to… METALGARURUMON!"

  "Biyomon, digivolve to… BIRDRAMON!  Birdramon, digivolve to… GARUDAMON!"

  "Tentomon, digivolve to… KABUTERIMON!  Kabuterimon, digivolve to… MEGAKABUTERIMON!"

  "Gomamon, digivolve to… IKKAKUMON!  Ikkakumon, digivolve to… ZUDOMON!"

  "Palmon, digivolve to… TOGEMON!  Togemon, digivolve to… LILLYMON!"

  The armor-plated dinosaur and snow wolf, the gigantic eagle, the magenta beetle, the cross between a walrus and a wolf, and the floral fairy turned to face the vampire as their human partners' digivices glowed and quivered.

  "If we could take him out as ultimates, let us do it," said Lillymon to Wargreymon and Metalgarurumon.  She took out a mini-cannon made out of leaves and shot a pink missile out at her target.  "FLOWER CANNON!"

  Zudomon produced a primitive steel hammer and swung it around.  "VULCAN'S HAMMER!"  He struck the roof of the TV station with a crack, and a beam of white flew towards Myotismon Shadow Mode.

  "HORN BUSTER!"  Megakabuterimon joined his pincers together and generated a ball of electric surges.  A broad bolt of white lightning charged out at the vampire.

  Myotismon Shadow Mode held out his hands, producing a dark force field.  The Vulcan's Hammer and Horn Buster dissolved immediately, and the Flower Cannon reflected off of it and headed back for Lillymon.  As it hit her in the stomach, she let out a scream and fell to the roof, hunched over and clutching herself where the cannon buffeted her.

  "LILLYMON!" screamed Mimi, rushing over to her Lillymon, who had de-digivolved to her in-training form of Tanemon.  She held her in her arms and asked, "Are you OK?"

  "…No," gasped Tanemon.

  "LETHAL DARKNESS!" shouted the Shadow Mode, spreading his cape and letting loose a sea of darkness, complete with vibrations in the air that resembled sound waves.  As the blanket covered Zudomon and Megakabuterimon, the Arctic creature's legs trembled and the beetle's wings began to beat less rapidly.

  "It's too cold, even for me…" moaned Zudomon, shivering and hitting the roof with a loud boom.  "My energy is completely drained, Joe; do something!"

  "I CAN'T!" cried Joe.  "My digivice was affected by the darkness!"

  "Same as mine," added Izzy.  "The power is kaput!"

  "NO!" wailed Megakabuterimon.  He ceased his flying and hit the ground, then he and Zudomon de-digivolved to Motimon and Bukamon.

  "Garudamon!  Be careful!" admonished Sora as the snowfall grew more abundant.

  "Don't you worry, Sora!" shouted the eagle, soaring above the clouds.  Myotismon Shadow Mode followed her into the upper atmosphere, and ten seconds following, Garudamon tumbled downwards to the roof and de-digivolved to Yokomon.  "He… his darkness… overwhelmed me!"  Even the blue flower on top of her round pink body had wilted.

  "Who is next?" questioned the Shadow Mode.

  Meanwhile, Rena and Kari had reached the dark control room and saw two empty cages, the other occupied by Angemon, who was motionless but was still awake.

  "Is anyone in here?" asked Rena, frantically scanning the room.  "Hello?"

  "Angemon!" exclaimed Kari, running over to the angel's cage.  She grabbed hold of two of the bars and looked down at the weakened angel on the bottom.  "Are you all-right?  What happened to you?  Where's Angewomon?  Is she hurt?"  Rena immediately followed the keeper of light's lead and stared at the second angel she had ever laid eyes on in person.

  "Angewomon… was taken away by the Shadow Mode!" answered the angel, gathering all the energy he could manage to articulate this simple phrase.  "And so was… My…"  He lay limp on the floor, only able to breathe and not complete his sentence: "And so was Myotismon."

  "Your what?" asked Rena, bending down to touch the angel.  "Your wings, your halo, your friend, your power?"

  "His power," Kari deduced.  "He's so tired and limp… unable to help…"

  "You… can… save… her…" the angel began.  "Tell… TK… how much I… I… care for him…"  There was silence once again; the only sound that could be heard were what sounded like shouting, crashing above them on the roof, and male voices.

  "It sounds like the others are in trouble!" Kari vociferated.  "We need to help them, Rena!"  She and the other girl ran out of the room only to be stopped by Smith, Richards, Rosseau, and D.  Rena immediately recognized them as the ones who captured Myotismon when he was still AngeMyotismon.

  "Well well well," said D, wrapping his left hand around his concealed gun.  "Look who we have here.  Two trespassers on our new territory."

  "Who are you?" questioned Kari as Rena snuck off to get something heavy enough to knock them out, whispering that she would be all-right if Kari stalled them.

  "The name's D," replied the black man.  "These are the dunderheads Smith and Richards, and this is my employer Rosseau.  Only those who die know that we have been the kings of crime back in America, and when we exploit the angels for money, we will be the richest men in the world!"  He extracted his gun and pulled the trigger, aiming for Kari's chest.  "It looks like it's past your bedtime, little girl.  And do you know what we do to little girls who wander the halls of strangers' headquarters after dark?"

  Kari quivered and stepped back towards the wall.  "That's terrible what you're doing to Angemon and Angewomon!" she asserted without thinking.  "People like you should be in hell!"

  "Hey!" Rosseau realized.  "What happened to that fat girl who was with you?" he asked Kari.

  "I'LL TEACH YOU TO MESS WITH ANGELS!" echoed a voice in the halls.  As the four men turned their heads, Rena took a wrench and swung it at their heads.  She hit D, who tumbled into Smith.  Both hit the wall, and Smith got knocked out as his head hit it.  Richards tripped over the two of them, and Rena whacked him on the head as well.

  Rosseau, realizing that his three right-hand men were out cold, grew slightly insecure and trembled.  "I'm not afraid of you, Fatty," he lied to Rena, backing away towards the door.

  "That's Fatty You-Reek-O to you, ugly!" shouted Rena, running up to Rosseau and shoving him into the hall.  He hit the door behind him and fell to the ground.  Before he could do anything, Rena took her scarf and tied the antagonist's feet together, and then the ponytail holders out of her hair and did his hands.  Rosseau lay squirming on the ground like a worm before she and Kari brought him and his three employees into the janitor's closet, locking the door from the outside before they could wake up.

  "Wow."  Kari stood there, motionless, her mouth in an O shape.  "Where did you get the wrench?"

  "It was stuffed between the handle of a door and something else, and I found out why.  They held all these people hostage so they could claim the TV station as their own," answered Rena.  She whipped her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed the number of the police.  She held it up to her ear and waited a few seconds before she said, "Hello, police?…  I have to report a hostage situation in Odaiba…  Four men held all the employees of the Channel 7 TV station hostage and locked them in a room…  No, Kari and I are holding them in a closet.  Please come before they escape!  Thank you… My name?  Rena Yuriko… Thank you so much!  Bye!"

  She opened the door to a room and saw dozens of people tied together on the ground by ropes, bandannas around their mouths.  She said,  "Don't worry; the police are coming to take the four men to prison.  Kari and I will untie you—"

  Suddenly a loud bang, which was Garudamon hitting the roof, resounded throughout the room.  "We have to help the others!" Kari exclaimed. "We're sorry, but the rest of Japan, maybe even the world, is counting on us!"  They rushed out of the room and up the stairs as the flashing lights of police cars pulled up to the TV station.

  "TERA FORCE!"  Wargreymon produced an orange ball of energy that was as large as a house and hurled it at the Shadow Mode.

  "METAL WOLF CLAW!"  A blue beam of energy, complete with sharp claws at the end, bolted out at the vampire, who blocked both attacks with his cape.

  "He's INVINCIBLE!" screamed TK.

  Izzy opened his Pineapple computer and accessed his Digimon Analyzer.  "I'm afraid you're right, TK," he said.  "Myotismon Shadow Mode is said to be the most potent evil digimon ever, despite being only an ultimate.  His vampiric Lethal Darkness can drain the power out of any and all digimon.  The bats in his Raging Nightmare are more powerful than the bats from his Grisly Wing and can kill slowly, tearing through ANYTHING.  His most dangerous attack is his Mega Crimson Lightning, which can kill if utilized in a certain way… no digimon can stop him, with the exception of one."

  "Please let it be Angemon!" exclaimed Matt.  "He's got to be fine…"

  "Wizardmon!" added Tai.  "It's got to be him."

  "No, it's Angewomon!" argued Sora.  "Why else is he trying to kill her?"

  "What does it say, Izzy?" asked Joe.

  "It doesn't," replied Izzy.  "YOU ASININE CRETIN OF AN ANALYZER!  WHERE'S THE RELEVANT INFORMATION WHEN YOU NEED IT?"

  "ANGEWOMON!" screamed Kari, seeing her digimon partner floating in the air and slowly dying.  "What has Myotismon done to her?"  She began to sob again.  Rena ran over to where the other digi-destined were.

  "RAGING NIGHTMARE!"  Myotismon Shadow Mode spread his cape, unleashing a swarm of bats that knocked Wargreymon and Metalgarurumon back to the ground.  Though the dinosaur's shield was up, the bats flew around it and began nipping away at his flesh.  The two digimon writhed in pain as their energy began to slowly seep away.  Finally, they de-digivolved to their in-training stages of Koromon and Tsunomon.  The vampire landed on the ground as Tai and Matt picked up their out-cold digimon.  "It looks as if you digi-destined are done for… defeated after so many victories… you never knew that I could survive after a second death.  And Wizardmon, you fool, escaping my grasp.  You will all pay a price for fighting me… your power is so delicious."

  "Don't kill them!" shouted Rena.  "Especially when you saved my life as—"

  "SILENCE!" snapped the Shadow Mode.  "I never saved your trivial life.  I have never even seen your face before.  For interfering, you will all be doomed to die."  He advanced on the frightened group of digi-destined, his right hand glowing scarlet.  A protracted whip of Crimson Lightning protruded from the radiant hand and dragged itself on the ground.  The snowfall became a blizzard, and the wind glowed.  "What a way for you digi-destined to die!" he exclaimed.  "Alone in the cold in the dead of night!  MWAHAHAHAHA!"

  The seven of them huddled together, holding their in-training digimon in their arms.  Rena hugged Wizardmon protectively.  _What a way to go_, thought Tai.  _No one to save us, stuck together in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve…  We need a miracle!_

  "LEAVE THEM ALONE!" shouted a voice that sounded exactly like the Shadow Mode's.  All of a sudden, they saw Myotismon flying in the air above them, and were perplexed as to whether this was a miracle or a set-up.  The digi-destined and Shadow Mode saw an image of AngeMyotismon flashing on and off on Myotismon's body and grew even more confused.

  "It's the angel who saved me!" Rena exclaimed.  "Only he looks… different…"

  "TWO MYOTISMONS?!" shouted Matt.  "Both are going to get it if our digimon wake up—"

  "Matt, I am here to defend you and the other digi-destined and digimon," assured Myotismon.  "He is my darker half, so I must delete him before he makes this world his own."  He landed in the snow in front of the group and shielded them with his cape.  "Shadow Mode, this will be your final undoing!  You have infected me with your darkness, and now I will dispose of whatever darkness lingers within me!"  He darted to the side and grabbed Angewomon out of the red sphere, which disappeared.  Her paleness remained.

  "Why don't we take this above the clouds in an aerial battle?" asked the Shadow Mode.  "That way, those little insects won't be able to save you this time!"  He flew into the air like a rocket and disappeared above the clouds.  Myotismon followed.

  "He's here to save us," said Tai.  "I could tell."

  "What should we do?" asked Sora.  "What if he's the only one who can destroy the Shadow Mode?"

  Wizardmon paused, then answered quietly, "He is."

  The tops of the clouds were grayish-black with blood-red light reflecting off of them, slightly rounded off at some points.  It was eerily beautiful and placid.  Both vampires emerged from within and hovered in the sky, their capes spread behind them.

  The Shadow Mode's lips curled into a grin.  "Finally to defeat you… but if we come into contact, we will reunite as one again, and you will be inclined to take over the world once again…"

  "CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  Myotismon unleashed a whip of Crimson Lightning, which did nothing as it hit his Shadow Mode's chest but make him laugh.

  "Do you miss your bats, Myotismon?  I hear they do not follow you anymore!  RAGING NIGHTMARE!"  The moon's red shade deepened as the throng of millions of bats flew towards their former master, screeching and flapping their wings.

  "CRIMSON LIGHTNING!  CRIMSON LIGHTNING!  NIGHTMARE CLAW!"  Attempting his best to stop the bats, the vampire unleashed whatever attacks he could manage to paralyze and destroy the bats, but they were so overwhelming they began to chew away at his flawless skin and drain his power.  He let out a shout of agony and began to drop onto the surface of the cloud, surprisingly able to do so despite not being an angel.  _It is over… after all I tried to do for Angewomon… I love her and both worlds and I do not want to have my darker half as their king…  If this is the end… I want Angemon to know I am sorry for not fulfilling my promise to him and Angewomon to know how much I love her…_

  Suddenly, eight beams of light with the same primary colors of the visible spectrum shone on him and seemed to give him his energy… and they formed his moon staff and sword, exactly as he had as AngeMyotismon.  He knew it was the digi-destined who assisted him, so he must thank them for all they did for him.  He took the staff and sword as his Shadow Mode spotted him.

  "You believe those pitiful weapons will help you?" he taunted.  "MEGA CRIMSON LIGHTNING!"  The deadly beam flew out at him, but he held up the sword in self-defense… and did not die.  The Shadow Mode's face twisted into a puzzled expression.  "What the bloody hell happened?"

  "I am Myotismon, the Dark Archangel of the Digital World!" exclaimed the vampire, rising into the air.  An image of AngeMyotismon flickered on and off on his body before he returned to Myotismon again.  "It is my duty to destroy the infection of darkness that is you!"  He took his sword and staff and pointed them at the other vampire, then touched them together.  "MYSTIC RADIANCE!"

  The Shadow Mode's eyes grew to twice their size as he saw his counterpart, the only one capable of defeating him, produce his most ardent attack of all.  Six beams of purple and red light, almost like laser beams, shot out of the sword and staff and curved like water in a fountain, hitting its target as he stood still, petrified.  As they touched him, an explosion of white light occurred, so powerful it blew the clouds away from Tokyo.  Huge fireworks exploded in the sky in explosions of white and blue light, visible from all windows.  Everyone in Tokyo looked up at this beautiful sight, seeing their moon change from red to an orb of silver again.  The digi-destined looked up and saw that it meant that one of them had been defeated for good.

  When the display of fireworks ceased, the clouds gathered again and began sprinkling a soft snowfall on Tokyo, and Myotismon floated down to the roof of the building.  "I wish to thank you digi-destined for assisting me," he acknowledged them.  "Your light stopped darkness…"  He saw Angewomon lying on the ground, still unconscious.  He knelt down and, remembering that angel tears could heal, he squeezed tears out of his eyes which fell on the angel maiden's face, turning it from a deadly white into a healthy rosy color.

  "Myotismon?" asked Angewomon.  "You saved my life… and I knew you saved both worlds as well…"

  Then another surprise visit took place: Angemon flew onto the surface of the building and embraced TK.  "I never forgot about you; I was captured before I got the chance.  I couldn't have saved you even if I had the chance; Myotismon is the true angel."

  The vampire bowed his head at this respectful comment.  The true angel…

  "Wizardmon, I believe you have met your digi-destined," continued the angel, "Rena Yuriko."  A portal that resembled the Gate of Destiny opened in the sky and shone a beam of white light on the vampire, who did not even flinch at this incandescence.  "But now, we angels are being summoned to the digital world… have a wonderful Christmas, digi-destined!"  It drew Myotismon into the portal, and Angemon and Angewomon followed.

  They found themselves in the white marble hall once again, which took on a holier and more breathtaking appearance than ever.  Myotismon stood between Angemon and Angemon, looking up at the Grand Council of Angels in the white courtroom podium.  Seraphimon sat at the one that towered above the others, and five angels sat on each side.  He did not see, however, the audience behind him, as his eyes could not be drawn away from the angels.

  "I suppose you are wondering the reason as to why I have summoned you," Seraphimon addressed Myotismon.  "You, though not assuming the form of AngeMyotismon, have undertaken an act that was verified to be benevolent, selfless, and out of respect for others besides yourself.  By successfully defeating and deleting the Shadow Mode on Earth, you have quelled all digital darkness that has entered the real world as well as given both worlds salvation."

  All ten other angels of the Grand Council nodded in agreement.

  "Angewomon, though your act of unauthorized entry into the real world was impractical, you will not receive a punishment as this was done out of love for AngeMyotismon," continued Seraphimon, as if he were reciting the order of business off a piece of paper.  "The same for Angemon, only his act was committed out of love for his female counterpart.  Perhaps it was better, after all, that they entered the real world… if they had not, this might not have occurred."

  "Seraphimon," asked Angewomon, "has the banishment charge been lifted?"

  "Yes," stated Seraphimon.  "For the most heroic deed of singlehandedly defeating his own Shadow Mode, in turn saving all worlds from his domination, Myotismon is no longer banished from the digital world.  If you would turn around, Myotismon, there is a myriad of digimon who came to thank you."

  The vampire slowly turned around until he faced what was behind him.  There were four rows of ivory seats that resembled church pews, all of which were filled with a variety of digimon, nearly one of every Data, Vaccine, and even Virus type that ever existed.  A banner in the color for the North, South, East, and West hung behind each row, and each Guardian stood at the back of the row that corresponded to their region.  Several balconies above the seats were also filled with digimon.  Those who were apt enough to do so, applauded and cheered.  The vampire had never felt so accepted or been treated like a hero in any of his lives.

  The accord continued for five minutes, until Angewomon laid a hand on his shoulder and told him to turn around again.  He faced Seraphimon, whose usually emotionless face had a slight grin on it.  "As another reward," stated the Grand Angel, "you may choose how to live your life.  You may become an Angemon, remain Myotismon, or be reconverted into AngeMyotismon."

  At first, the vampire considered becoming AngeMyotismon again, but then he heard Angewomon softly whispering into his ear, "It doesn't matter whether or not you're an Angemon or Myotismon, or take the appearance of your Shadow Mode; you are still the same digimon to me: my hero and my love."

  Myotismon had reached his decision after Angewomon whispered it to him.  "Lord Seraphimon, though a life as an angel is quite tempting, I choose to remain Myotismon and to stay in the real world… the digi-destined might need my assistance…"

  "And I opt to stay at his side as his bride," added Angewomon, wrapping her arms around him.  "I love him very much…"

  "I, too, also wish to live in the real world," Angemon chimed in.  "May I be their bodyguard in the case they need me, and stay with TK and the other digi-destined?"

  "You three may live life the way you please," alleged Seraphimon.  "Myotismon, with power granted to you by the Grand Council of Angels, you will be the guardian of the real world, defending humans from entering digimon that could be evil.  Angewomon, by the power invested in me, you and the vampire will be wed as soon as possible.  Angemon is now their official bodyguard.  Finally, Myotismon, with his vocation of being a guardian angel, you will need a change of outfit."

  A white light surrounded the vampire as he felt his feet lifted off the ground.  Every digimon in the room stared at him as if he were transforming into AngeMyotismon for the second time.  He felt himself surrounded in an orb of light as his blue suit and black cape became something more angelic in appearance.  He felt his feet touch the ground and the light disappeared.

  All the digimon got a good look at his new suit.  His cape looked exactly like his old one, except the black had become white and the red was now silver.  It was so light and feathery it felt as if it wasn't there, but still gave him warmth.  The cape was clasped together by a gold bat-shaped clasp with a blood-red ruby in the center.  His blue bodysuit changed into something more futuristic and revealing in appearance, just like his suit as AngeMyotismon's.  The only parts of him that were covered were his arms, the top of his chest, his neck, and everything underneath where his belts were placed.  Otherwise it took on the appearance of his old suit, except the bat symbols and lining had become silver, and what was blue was now white.  He had two belts like his former ones.  They were slung around his thin waist, and at three inches below his navel they were placed lower than his other ones were.  They were gold with silver studs and crescent-moon-shaped buckles, with two gold straps slung around the side and connecting in the back.  He wore white gloves like his former ones, and had lighter white boots.  They had silver bottoms, and the right one had a silver bat on it and the left had a silver moon.  To top it off, his crimson mask had not altered in shape but in color, now a dazzling white.  He truly was a sight to see and one could tell that he was an angel, despite his lack of wings.

  "I… I… I feel as if I'm AngeMyotismon once more…" breathed Myotismon, staring at his new ensemble.  "I love it, it feels as if it's not there but provides a new warmth!"  He turned around, and the digimon assembly ooh-ed and aah-ed in awe.

  "I love it too," murmured Angewomon, wrapping her arms around him again, "my dark archangel."

  A new life had begun for Myotismon as the Guardian of Tokyo, beginning on Christmas Day.  The entire world, somehow, got informed out of it.  Was it because it was on the front page, like the news of Rosseau's capture.  He was wanted in 37 states and five countries, it turned out, and Rena capturing him had earned her a reward that was more than money: popularity.  She was frequently visited by the vampire and the angel on special occasions, but that, other than defending the world from unwanted visitors, was the only time he came down from the sky.  Chip Tajiri, former nerd, had also become a good acquaintance.  The digi-destined were also the only ones who could travel into the sky to see him.  Tokyo, as well as Earth, had gotten one of its greatest Christmas gifts ever: a guardian, his angelic bride, and his bodyguard.

  To this day, some say he can still be seen at his post in the clouds, keeping a watchful eye out for his city, so far away yet so close.  With Angewomon at his side, he silently rules over Earth in a new way, defending it in times of need, keeping peace throughout all dimensions.  Everyone knows of his presence and respects him, knowing that without him, chaos will ensue.  He was once a vampire, once an angel, but he is now a combination of both.  He is known by his title of Myotismon, the Dark Archangel.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*


End file.
